


DEFCON 5

by Wrong_Password



Category: Zootopia (2016)
Genre: F/M, Not the same Electra as in ATTMB., This Really Needs Editing
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-08-29
Updated: 2018-11-30
Packaged: 2018-12-21 09:14:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 33
Words: 56,681
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11940990
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wrong_Password/pseuds/Wrong_Password
Summary: Cross-Posting from FF.net.2021: This is why time travel isn't supposed to be possible-who would have though that one dumb fox's desire for a few vacation days would have resulted in so much mess? Then again, who could have thought that Bellwether would have broken out of jail, either, and made Zootopia a zystopia? Certainly not anyone involved, and here, it's day-by-day, praying to Karma we see tomorrow.





	1. Chapter 1

Premise:

Judy Hopps and Nick Wilde are dead, killed in a shootout six months ago. A shocked city went into lockdown, instituting harsh laws and cracking down on anything and anyone that stood in their way.

But no bodies were ever recovered...

* * *

Chapter One

Document 2017-1-11-Q12A

Interview with Jack L. Savage, Director, ZIA

Begin Transcript:

Peter Moosebridge, Anchor, ZNN

So, Agent Savage, as all of Zootopia knows, the ZPD's 'Dastardly Duo' has long since been dead, but I'm not quite sure that everybody knows what, exactly, happened to them.

Jack Savage, ZIA

Well, Mister Moosebridge, I'd be more than happy to elaborate. At approximately 0830 hours on August the nineteenth, 2016, Chief Idris Bogo of ZPD's Precinct One received an emergency bulletin from the Mayor's Office. This bulletin alerted Chief Bogo to a Code Z-1 in progress, Savannah Central.

P. Moosebridge

Now, please explain, Mister Savage- What, exactly, is a code Z-1?

J. Savage

Ah, Mister Moosebridge, I'm glad you asked. And please, call me Mister Savage. Agent Savage is a bit to formal for my liking. But anyways, a Code Z-1 is the ZIA's and ZPD's code for a top-priority emergency, or as the movies call it, DEFCON 5.

P. Moosebridge

Now, what, do tell, what the cause of such an alarm? I mean, top priority alarms summon every ZPD member, regardless of post, yes?

J. Savage

They do indeed. This particular alarm was instigated by a shootout in the middle of Sahara Square in the middle of the day. Several civilians were already wounded or dead, and the shooters had, as one survivor put it, 'endless ammunition'.

P. Moosebridge

So what was Chief Bogo's response to this crisis?

J. Savage

Well, Mister Moosebridge, from what he has told us, it was something along the lines (and I'm paraphrasing here) of "Holy cow...How on Earth could something like this ever happen, let alone in my county? My city? My precinct?

P. Moosebridge

So then what, exactly. We all know the outcome (Suddenly appears overcome with emotion.), but not the nitty-gritty of it all. So please tell us, Mister Savage.

J. Savage

Can do. (Turns to face the camera.) Approximately twelve minutes after this alarm had been issued, Chief Bogo dispatched his officers to the scene, all equipped with full riot gear and shields, as well as their own guns and the instruction to fire at will.

Once the officers arrived on-scene, they found the scene I described previously, only that the reports were a slight understatement. Instead of the reported three assailants, there were nine on-scene and actively firing. Upon reaching the scene with the officers of their precinct, Officers Wilde and Hopps attempted to diffuse the situation by using their bullhorns to call out to the shooters and get them to cease fire. These attempts were unsuccessful, and the volume of fire continued to increase, forcing the officers to flee.

However, Officers Wilde and Hopps stood their ground, refusing to flee and still calling out to the assailants to, in their words, 'For the love of mammality, stop! Have you any idea what you're doing?" This prompted the wolf who appeared to be leading the shooters to reply, "Yes," then level his gun at the two officers and pull his trigger.

The two officers then fell to the ground, and the firefight raged for another half an hour. When it finally subsided, the two officers' bodies were nowhere to be found. The ZPD and ZIA, as well as the ZBI, questioned all assailants as to whether or not they had shot ZPD's finest, then taken their bodies.

P. Moosebridge

And what did they respond?

J. Savage

No, of course, for, as they likely knew, their charges would be, at minimum, life sentences. After fifty hours of interrogation, they remained adamant, repeatedly insisting upon the fact that they had not killed Officers Wilde and Hopps.

P. Moosebridge

I'm surprised that the ZIA has allowed that much information to be released, Mister Savage. I know that the ZIA prefers not to give out too much, for fear of inciting mass hysteria.

J. Savage

Quite honestly, me too. The two fallen officers' bodies were not recovered, as I have said, and people began to wonder whether their favorite officers were as dead as they were purported to be. However, a week later, two bullet-ridden bodies, a fox's and a rabbit's, surfaced at the Tundratown Coroner's Office. These bodies bore a striking resemblance to the fallen officers and also had on them their ZPD badges, as well as wallets containing enough documents for the coroner to give a positive identification.

The case was then deemed closed, the bodies were buried with full military honors, and Zootopia moved on.

P. Moosebridge

Interesting, Mister Savage, very interesting indeed. So I take it you are certain that Judy Hopps and Nicholas Wilde are dead?

J. Savage

Yes, most definitely, Mister Moosebridge.

P. Moosebridge

Thank you for your time, Mister Savage, and thank you for the explanation. I, and the whole of Zootopia, thank you.

J. Savage

You are most welcome, Mister Moosebridge. Have a nice night.

P. Moosebridge

A nice night to you as well, Mister Savage.

End Transcript

* * *

Chapter Two

From the Archives of The City Government Of Zootopia, 5 Flock Street, Sahara Square, Zootopia

* * *

Begin Letter Text

January 27, 2017

Dear Mom, Dad,

I'm not exactly dead, you see. Those bullets, they hit us, knocked us down, and knocked us out. When I woke up, I wasn't in Sahara Square anymore, I was in a bunker underneath Tundratown- the government has bunkers everywhere. The first thing that came to mind was "How the heck did I survive that?" I had four bullet holes in me: one in my stomach, one in my left leg, one in my arm, and one just below where my heart is.

I don't know how I did, but nevertheless, I did, and here I was, shot full of holes and feeling like death warmed over. It was then that I noticed the IV drip in my arm- labelled "Morphine, .1 Molar Solution.

'That probably helps,' I'd thought. 'Otherwise I'd feel like death frozen over, then steamrolled. 'Who cares? I'm alive!' Then came the obvious question of 'How?'. That answer came in the form of my trusty carrot pen. It was resting ever so gently in my hand, and the light that told me if there was a recording on it was lit.

I pressed it, and this is what I heard: Nick's voice, saying 'Carrots, we really need to take a vacation, but Chief Buffalo-Butt won't let us unless it's medical leave, so he and I rigged up a plan, and it went perfectly- oh, except for the fact that we've both been shot.

Anyways, Nick hired some actors to play dead, and some more to shoot all over the place, and I filled out some paperwork under the guise of a parade, cleared the area out, and let the fireworks start.

Only problem is, they were using real bullets. Dumb fox…Nick forgot to tell them to use blanks...

Then I guess you're wondering how I'm doing and what I'm doing here. Well, I want to go home, but since Nick and I have been declared dead by the government, there is no going home. There is no home.

Love you, Mom, Dad.

Always yours,

Judy

End Letter Text

* * *

ZIA Director's Notes: Do not, at all costs, let this letter be sent! Zootopia can not know what is going on here. Not at all!

On the same note, though we at the ZIA know the true cause of these events, we cannot afford to let these transmissions slip. Officers Wilde and Hopps are officially dead, though I have heard rumors circulating that they still live. The ZIA higher-ups have run a misinformation campaign, and I believe that our problems have been laid to rest for now. However, our two friends are aching for release. How that would be plausible, if at all, is beyond me.

To shift the spotlight off of us, I have submitted the draft of a proposal to implement mandatory shock collars on all predator-type mammals. I expect that in their current state, the Mayor will sign the proposal into law within the next forty-eight hours.

In the meantime, the ZIA will continue to partner with the ZPD to aid their investigation into the shooting. However, we will lead the investigation to false findings and suppress the truth.

Isn't lying to the public so much fun?

Jack Savage, Director, ZIA

* * *

Chapter Three

Bunker ZT-TT, 0756 Hours

Medical Ward, Floor -5

* * *

"Well, good morning, sleepyhead."

"Morning to you too, Nick."

"Is it just me, or do these cots get more uncomfortable every day?" Nick asked.

"Yes, Slick Nick, they do. But what's more uncomfortable, cots or shots, huh?"

"You know the answer to that, Carrots."

"I suppose that I do. Doesn't mean that I won't ask. God, Nick, I want to get out of here!"

"You bunnies, so emotional. Though being shot probably doesn't help, huh?"

"No, not at all. The fact that we can't leave here doesn't help either," I said.

"I have a sneaking suspicion that it's safer for you and I down here."

"What's that supposed to mean? Even with the occasional shootout, Zootopia is the safest city in all of Pangaea..."

"In case you hadn't heard, the ZIA has played this event to their liking. Even if we do get out, what do you think will happen to us? That devil Savage up at the ZIA's cooking up a plan to cause hell. Anyways, we're dead, remember?

"Well, what a fast exposition, eh?"

"Are you likening this to a novel, Fluff?"

"I guess I am, huh? I mean, this whole thing seems somewhat cliche. Just like all the cheesy Double-Paw 7 novels: Make a plan, it goes horribly wrong, bad guy captures you, you escape, the world's a mess, you fix it, you win. The first two steps have gone along just like I described."

"I see your point, Judy," Nick said. "But now what, huh? I'm guessing Step Three: Jailbreak."

"Yes, indeed. But in case you hadn't noticed, dumb fox, I'm in no condition to...AHH!"

"Judy!"

* * *

Chapter Four

* * *

Well, that was an interesting way to start the morning...

After the incident with the Junior Ranger Scouts, I decided that hustling was the way to go. I closed my eyes to the world, and they closed their eyes to me. I saw no reason to change- Why should I if it wouldn't change the stereotypes?

So when a little bunny came bouncing her way into my life, I thought she'd treat me like scum, just like the others. After all, my kind used to eat hers.

But whoopsie, she didn't. She treated me like [Well, at first, she was like the others, but what did I do to prove her wrong?] I was worth something. That little ball of fluff showed me that there was good left in the world; that I could, in fact, change.

So what did this fox do?

He followed this rabbit's lead, and to his surprise, became the ZPD's first fox officer. Partnered with Judy Hopps, he could do anything. Including fall for her.

Life had other plans, though- whoopsie! Apparently putting them out of the picture was part of it, but that didn't work the way Life planned, and so here they were. Goodness gracious, gunshots HURT!

After standing by this bunny's side for so long, he didn't know what to do when she was hauled away.

"Judy!"

"Nick! Help me, dumb fox!"

A Glock's handy when it's loaded, but not so much when it's not. It's even less handy if someone's used their own and unloaded it into you.

I drew myself to my feet, trying to 1) not cry out in pain and desperation, and 2) hold my arm steady so I could fire my gun. I was shocked that they'd left it on me (it was still in my hands), but that didn't matter right now. Judy was being taken, I could barely move, and it was what I had. I drew back the trigger, and-

Click!

Empty!

"What do you want with her? We didn't do anything, so let her go!"

"You really think it'll be that easy, Nicholas?,"one of the voices called back. "Goodness, you've gone soft. I thought twenty years on the street would've toughened you up. I guess not..."

"Finnick?"

"You've got that right, old friend. Or should I call you my new enemy?"

"I think new enemy might be more appropriate to the occasion. Now, before I have to ask, who's your friend here?"

"You just asked," he replied. "And-"

"I think you know who I am, Nicholas. You should, you sent me to jail..."

Now I was beyond bewildered. Being a street fox for two decades certainly made me hard to surprise, but this one threw me for a loop.

"Bellwether? We locked you up months ago, so do you care to explain? And to get back to the more important topic-"

"Oh, you mean your girlfriend here?," she said, tilting her head towards the bound yet struggling bunny. "I'd love to explain, sure. But I'm sure she'd love to live more," Bellwether said, pulling her own Glock out of its holster and pointing it at Judy's head.

"So what'll it be? Come and get me."

"Or what? There wasn't another option there, Dawn."

"Or she dies, sweetheart."

"Only Judy says that to me," I said, pushing myself to my feet on the tile. "You are one sick sheep, Bellwether."

"Maybe I am. Maybe, maybe, maybe. Who knows, really? I mean, do you think Lionheart's hands were really clean? Or do you think it's possible that it was his idea all along? You really are a dumb fox, Wilde. But this will probably make you a teensy-weensy bit dumber. And by dumber, I mean savage."

A click, a bang, then just red.

* * *

Chapter 5

* * *

Two Hours Later

Zootopia General Hospital, The Rainforest District

* * *

Beep-Beep-Beep-Beep...

"Sweet cheese and crackers. Nick!"

"Calm down, Miss Longear. You've suffered quite the mauling. Now who's Nick, honey?," a nurse asked.

"My friend. He's a red fox. You know, Nick Wilde, ZPD's first fox. He's my partner on the force."

"No, he's not, sweetie. You're an accountant, not a police officer. Judy Hopps and Nick Wilde have been dead for six months now. The fox who mauled you, his name's Chase Blacktip. Although it was interesting, Allison. He had traces of Night Howler in his blood."

"My name's not Allison Longear; that fox isn't Chase Blacktip. I'm Judy Hopps, he's Nick Wilde! Please just listen to me! Please! I swear I'm not crazy, I don't have amnesia, and I'm not dead, either."

"Well, you're obviously not dead, honey. But I think you're wrong about the whole 'not being crazy' deal."

"What kind of nurse are you who calls mammals crazy? I know who I am, and do you want to know something else?"

"No, not really," she replied. "I'm going to call the doctors now, maybe they can help you," she said, leaving the room.

2 Hours Later

I don't know how vampires do it. Blood tastes nasty. It tasted even worse once the doctors told me what I'd done. "Gone Savage," they'd said, with nary the explanation as to why.

"What the hell is going on here?"

That's all I wanted to know. I mean, this whole series of events is beyond anything that I could've dreamed up. Lionheart could've dreamed it up, I suppose. But in all seriousness, why?

Then there was another question scratching at the back of my mind: "How did she know?"

I didn't tell anyone about this, Judy didn't know until about a month before so how? How did Bellwether know when and where to be there?

Then there was the small matter of my gunshot wounds- I checked and quadruple-checked that my actors would be using fake bullets. How did they get swapped for real ones?

And how the hell was I supposed to get Judy's blood out of my mouth?

* * *

Chapter 6

* * *

Zootopia General Council Meeting, February 10, 2017

On The Docket: Savage Attack, 02/09/17

A. Longear/C. Blacktip

Presiding: The Honorable Amber Fleetfoot

Councilmembers: Jack Savage, Director, ZIA; Michael Clydesdale, Esq.; Jennifer Otterton, Esq.; Chance Valdez, Esq; Maxine Cunningham, Esq.; Joanna Axel, Esq.

* * *

Judge Fleetfoot: I expect that you have all become aware of the savage attack that occurred yesterday. It has been made known to me that the assailant had low levels of Night Howler toxin in his bloodstream.

Councilmember Axel: Acknowledged, Your Honor. In your opinion, what is the likelihood that this could be Bellwether's doing?

Judge Fleetfoot: It is highly unlikely, Councilwoman. Do not forget that Bellwether is incarcerated at Tundratown Prison. Based on the evidence at hand, the most probable scenario is that the subject was able to come in contact with trace amounts of said toxin that were available on the black market. In an effort to get high, he injected himself while on lunch break at Lemming Brothers, where he is employed as an office manager.

Councilmember Otterton: If I understand correctly, Your Honor, that would have put him in close proximity to the victim, an accountant at said bank.

Director Savage: I concur, Councilman. I believe that Bellwether created an epidemic that cannot be stopped. In fact, the ZIA has heard of several more cases such as this across the city.

Councilmember Valdez: If that's so, director, then why have we not heard anything about them?

Director Savage: A reasonable question, Councilman. These cases were not immediately recognized as cases of this type, and so were only reported to the police departments of the varios municipalities in which they occured. It was only under last year's Freedom of Information Act that we were able to see this data.

On the matter of Night Howlers, though: when the ZIA Forensics Team examined the evidence, they noticed that all ten cases bore the hallmarks of Night Howler toxin. Based on the examination of this case, and those which I have just detailed, I believe that they are of the same type.

However, I believe that biology may play a part in this case.

Councilmember Cunningham: Objection, Director.

Director Savage: Yes, Councilwoman?

Councilmember Cunningham: Is that not the same biased statement that ZPD Officer Hopps made last year at her press conference? I can't imagine that you've forgotten. What makes you think that remarking the same thing will be wise?

Director Savage: An excellent point. However, I believe this case presents itself as an exception to that rule.

Judge Fleetfoot: In what regard, Director, especially coming from one of the highest-ranked officials in this city? I hope that you would please elaborate.

Director Savage: All ten previous cases involved mammals who had quite extensive rap sheets, all of them predators.

Judge Fleetfoot: Are you insinuating that there is a connection between predator status and criminality? That's exactly the opposite of what this city stands for. I thought we'd moved past such biased ways of thought, especially someone such as you.

Director Savage: But can we completely rule it out of picture either, Your Honor?

Councilmember Clydesdale: Objection, Director. The institution of a penal system based on predator/prey status is against our Constitution.

Director Savage: In that case, Councilman, I wish to propose an amendment.

Judge Fleetfoot: What might that be, director?

Director Savage: If the Zootopia General Assembly deems one group of citizens to be a threat to the general population, it may institute whatever form of punishment on this group of citizens by Executive Order. In this case, that group of citizens would be predators.

Judge Fleetfoot: What sort of punishment, Director Savage? Also, have you considered the ethicality of your proposed amendment? Widescale punishment, even to those who are innocent? Do you think the people will stand for such an injustice?

Director Savage: No, I don't believe they will stand for it. However, if there is a threat posed by the predator population, do you not feel it best to completely eliminate any and all threats? In that case, I propose instituting T.A.M.E. Collars for all the predator population.

Councilmember Axel: Again, Director Savage, how would that be ethical?

Director Savage: I don't believe ethicality pertains here, Councilwoman. It is our job to keep the citizens safe. Think of it this way- wouldn't it also keep predators safe from themselves?

Judge Fleetfoot: An interesting perspective, Director. Please exit the room while we deliberate.

Director Savage: Will do. Thank you for your consideration, Councilmembers.

* * *

From: Jack Savage

To: [CENSORED]

R.E.: Today's Zootopian General Council Meeting, T.A.M.E. Collars

Sent: 8:27 P.M. ZST

That went better than expected. The councilmembers still seem hesitant, but I believe that I'll get my way eventually. Even if it takes more attacks, this mandate will go through.

I know I'm not alone in my desires to have these measures put in place, and hope you understand my reasoning pertaining to the matter. As for your opinions, those are the ones that will see this succeed or fail. I hope that it's the first.

Please reply as soon as you get this message.

Jack Savage, Director, ZIA

* * *

From: [CENSORED]

To: Jack Savage

R.E.:R.E.: Today's Zootopian General Council Meeting, T.A.M.E. Collars

Sent: 8:31 P.M. ZST

I understand completely, Director. Though I do not feel that all predators pose threats, I do feel that it would be better on my part to eliminate all possible threat. In that case, I do support your T.A.M.E. Mandate.

It will go into effect as of 12:00 AM ZST on 2/11.

[CENSORED], [CENSORED], Zootopia

* * *

Chapter 7

* * *

Zootopia General Hospital

12:01 AM, 2/11/2017

* * *

"Mister Blacktip? Wake up!"

"Huh? What do you want with me? Judy...I think I killed her. Can you get me some water? My mouth takes like blood...," I asked. "Please?"

"Yes, but there's a more important matter here: that rabbit you mauled, Allison Longear. She's alive, but just barely. Thanks to you, fox. And thanks to you, fox, say goodbye to your freedoms. Or, every predator's freedoms. The mayor just signed into effect a law mandating all predators to wear T.A.M.E. Collars," he said.

"What're those? And who's Mister Blacktip?" I asked.

"Shock collars. You get angry, they go zap. Shocked fox, safe fox. Problem solved. As for Mister Blacktip, don't you know your own name, dimwit? Or were you too busy shooting up Night Howler to remember?"

You know, you should have thought about Night Howlers' effects before you got high. Unfortunately, this sort of thing's happened before- all predators, wouldn't you know it, so this was just the final straw."

"Then why not just apply this mandate to those predators who actively pose a threat? That's unethical, and I should know."

"What's that supposed to mean, fox?" he drawled.

"I'm a police officer, nitwit. I know what's ethical and what's not. Now, please, dear Karma, get me a glass of water!"

"Like hell you're a police officer. In regards to water, suck it up, Buttercup. The Justice Department needs to swab your mouth for DNA evidence in the case against you."

"Look, I am a police officer. I'm Nick Wilde, nitwit!"

"Bull. Nick Wilde's been dead for months. You're an office manager, Allison Longear's one of your accountants. Or do you not remember that, either, Mister Chase Blacktip?"

"No," I replied. "I do know what I'm talking about. And where's that water, huh?"

"Didn't you hear me, you dumb fox? The Justice Department needs that blood for the case against you. In the meantime, you're staying here, under armed guard."

"I don't think so, Mister-?"

"Savage. Jack Savage. Yes, you are."

I sighed, resigned. "Look, seeing as I obviously can't change your mind in the present interval, and I can't fight you, seeing as I'm chained to the bed, when's the trial?"

"Next week," he replied. "In the meantime, you'll be wearing one of these," he said, showing me a silver box.

"What's that?"

"A provisionary model of the T.A.M.E. Collars I was telling you about earlier. Once there are more produced, we'll swap out this bad boy for an 'upgraded' model."

A sudden sense of dread passed over me. I now vaguely remembered my grandmother telling me about them. She had been required to wear one as a kit in the 1940s, but the Zootopian General Council had outlawed them in 1948. They were meant to suppress a predator's 'uncontrollable, biological urge to maim, and maul, and...'

Dang it, now I'm quoting Judy. That play was hilarious, though. Judy and I watched her parent's recording of it the night before my plan went into action.

But those hadn't been used in nearly seventy years. Dear Karma, what had happened to the Council to drive them to such extreme measures?

"No, please! Please don't put that thing on me," I whined, knowing full well that once it went on, it would never come off.

"Sorry, no can do," he said, reaching up around my neck, and...

Click! "Beep...Beep...Beep...Collar Active."

"Nooooooooooo!"

* * *

 

Same Time, Judy's Room

* * *

"Ms. Longear? Are you alright? I know you weren't doing so well earlier, but I thought that you might have recovered by now, and I wanted to ask you some questions."

"For the last time, lady, I'm not Allison Longear!"

"Guess I was wrong about you having recovered. Do you want me to come back later?"

"No! Please stay," I cried. "I just want to get out of here, and I don't understand why everyone keeps calling me a name that I'm not."

"Honey," the nurse replied. "What do you mean, everyone calls you a name that's not yours?"

"Sigh..." Obviously, she hadn't been listening to me. "There is no such rabbit as Allison Longear. My name is Judy Hopps, I swear. Please, let me explain!"

"All...right...," she said, obviously confused. "Do tell."

"As long as you promise not to interrupt. Got it?"

"We have a deal."

* * *

Chapter 8

* * *

"Well, to start off, there was a bunny and a fox."

"I know that, so get on with it..."

"They were partners; ZPD's Precinct One. 'The Dastardly Duo.' They could handle any case thrown at them. All except for one."

"Pray tell, what was that case?"

"I'm so glad you asked, Miss Hopps," she replied, horribly sarcastic. "Well, according to the official press reports, there was a shootout in Sahara Square six months ago. The entirety of the ZPD responded, and at the forefront of the responders were Precinct One's Hopps and Wilde."

"You bet we were," I shot back.

"Honey..."

"Not this again, lady. Could you just keep going, even though I know the whole tale by heart..."

I guess the nurse had had enough of me, because just then, I saw her reach behind me, then I felt a jab, then...

Nothing.

"Ow...," I moaned, rubbing my neck. "What the...?!" Then- Click!

A collar? I though those were outlawed!

"Allison Longear, you are under arrest."

I felt a sense of dread fill me, then a wave of anger, hot and boiling. "What the hell for?" I shouted. And after all this time in the hospital, I thought you numbskulls would have figured out that I'm Judy Hopps, not...!"

ZAP!

As soon as that shock passed through me, the dam broke, and the waterworks began.

"What was that for?" I sobbed. "I didn't do anything."

"Really? You're under arrest, honey-bunny, so I think you did. No, I know you did. Passing yourself off as Judy Hopps? Nice try, Miss Longear. You know, impersonation of an officer is enough to get you arrested. That, combined with the 'confession' your boss gave, the DA has more than enough evidence to indict both of you for obstruction of justice, impersonation of a police officer, and to top it all off, treason. That's a thirty year sentence on each charge. However, your friend gets it worse than you do, too bad for him."

"What do you mean by that, Savage?"

"Death by electric chair, most likely."

"What the hell?!"

"Effective this morning, all predators with a sixty-year-plus sentence are automatically sentenced to death in the electric chair."

"How is that legal?"

"Talk to Mayor Bellwether, Miss Longear. Tell her your case, not me. I'm just the poor Director, honey-bunny. I don't have any power. These charges weren't handed down by me, they're the Council's orders, and the Mayor heads that Council."

"Like hell you don't have any power. Savage, you are the most powerful mammal in this city. We all know that the government bends to your beck and call, Jack. Karma knows how I ever dated you."

He bent down to my ear and whispered, "That was high school, Judy. Now is different. Now you're Allison Longear, and you're headed to the big house."

* * *

Chapter 9

* * *

"The Honorable James Pawson Presiding. Today is February eleventh, Today's Agenda: Longear and Blacktip v. Zootopia."

Would Jack Savage please rise and take the stand?"

"Yes, Your Honor."

"Raise your right paw, then repeat after me: 'I, Jack Savage, swear that I will tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth.'"

"I, Jack Savage, swear that I will tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth."

"Please describe the events of last week to the jury, Director."

"Certainly. I will begin by presuming that the jury has been updated in regards to the outcome of the trial of two days ago."

"Affirmative, Director."

"Very well. From that point, I and a pair of ZIA agents went to visit Blacktip and Longear in the hospital. Once there, we went to talk with them; they both insisted that they were part of the ZPD's fallen 'Dastardly Duo.'"

"I see. What was your response, may I inquire?"

"I took their words at face value."

"Objection!"

"Yes, Mister Blacktip?"

"He did not take our words at face value. In no way whatsoever is this the truth. What he did do, Your Honor, is pin me to the bed, then clip this collar around my neck."

"Is that so?"

"Absolutely. As an officer of the law, what reason would I have to lie?"

"That's a hypocritical statement if I've ever heard one. You are not an officer of the law, I thought you knew that."

"Objection again! This is unreasonable conduct! Aren't judges supposed to remain professional?"

"I have a bit of a rebellious streak."

"I see that, Your Honor," I shot back, as sarcastically as I could muster without triggering my collar. Darn things are supposed to shut down violent emotions, but they shock you for everything else, too.

"Please continue, Mister Blacktip."

"What I was saying was that Director Savage is a lying, cheating, son of a..."

ZAP!

"Now who's being unprofessional, hmm?"

"Okay, time for a change in subject. Let's get back to the case, shall we?"

"Yes, indeed," he replied. "As far as the evidence I've seen shows, you are absolutely guilty. Unless you can show me otherwise, I have a verdict to deliver."

"Objection!" Judy cried out. "Objection! Objection! Objection!"

"I knew rabbits had a reputation for being feisty, but you, Miss Longear, are quite possibly the most feisty of them all, aren't you?"

"Yes, I am. Especially when I'm innocent!"

"I don't believe that for even a second, Miss Longear. Take your seat, I have a job to do and a verdict to deliver."

"No, I won't!"

"Yes, you will, or you'll be facing the chair too."

"What?"

"You heard me." He banged his gavel, then began to pronounce sentences.

"Chase Blacktip, you would sentenced to sixty years at Zootopia MS Penitentiary. However, a new law has come into play, effective this morning. A predator with your

length of sentence is automatically sentenced to death row. Your execution will be a month from today."

* * *

Well, ****! This is probably the biggest whoopsie ever...One innocent fox, one mad sheep, and no blueberries to save him this time. But there was still more to come: "As for you, Alaina, forty years, Zootopia MS Penitentiary."

**** again!

"Bailiffs, take them away, but first, muzzle the fox. We don't need him going savage on us while he's in transport."

Muzzle the fox? No, no, no! I turned to fight, but to no avail. I was too late- the pawcuffs were on, and then came the muzzle.

Never let them see that they get to you. Those eight words had been my mantra for the last twenty-one years, but Judy had blown the first holes in that facade over a year ago, and now that wall was balancing on a shaky foundation. It came crashing down when the judge read off my sentence. Death by electric chair! Holy Karma, what was wrong with this world?

To add insult to (fatal) injury, the bailiffs just had to muzzle me, and then I couldn't hold it in any longer. I howled my head off. I didn't even know foxes could do that, I mean, it wasn't like a wolf, but I thought foxes could only whine.

The bailiffs hauled us out and shoved us into a van, leaving me howling all the way.

* * *

Chapter 10

* * *

Zootopia Maximum Security Prison, Four Days Later

* * *

"Twenty-seven days. Twenty-seven days. That's all the life I have left. Today's February seventeenth, so I die March fifteenth. The Ides of March, it just so happens, and my birthday. Happy thirty-fourth, Nicholas!"

Let it be noted that previous to this whole debacle, I thought that I would die an old fox. Gray furred, at home and in my sleep. Looks like I was wrong. Just another whoopsie in this piece of **** I call my life at this point. The jailers are always on guard, one for every cell. The worst part isn't the jailers, though. It's knowing that Judy will rot in here, and I won't be around to help her. That being stated, though, the prison guards have express orders to never let me out of here, so even if I was still alive, it's not as if I would ever be able to see her.

Darn it, when did I become so cynical? Wait a minute- don't answer that...

* * *

February Eighteenth, 2016

26 Days To Execution

* * *

"Silence in your cell, Blacktip!"

"No, I won't be quiet. Not until you hear me out!"

"I don't think so. Be quiet, or I'll come in there and quiet you myself. You wouldn't want that, would you?"

I said nothing.

"That's what I thought," the guard snarled. "Dumb fox..."


	2. Part 2: Chapters 11 & 12

Chapter 11

February 29, 2016

Day XIV

16 days to execution

1127 Hours, Cafeteria

"All right, you slobs, get your grub, then sit down and shut up!" I went to get in line, but…

"Oh, look at the newbie," came a voice from behind me. I turned to look, and to my despair, it was polar bears. Joy.

I really don't much care for polar bears, but that was my own fault. I shouldn't have crossed Mister Big, but that was twenty years ago, and when Judy had become the godmother to little Judy, Fru Fru's daughter, I'd thought that we were now on good terms. Looks like I was wrong, judging from my current predicament. Four bears were now surrounding me, and I was hoping that I'd make it out of this alive. I'd be lucky to make it out that way, and in any better of a state than critical condition, well, that would be a miracle.

"Look who it is, Kevin," the largest of the bears said, pointing at me. "Well, hello, Nicholas. Fancy seeing you here. I thought you were on the coppers' side now."

"I am, Kevin. Please don't hurt me, all right. I mean, they're going to zap me to death in just over two weeks, but I think they want me alive until then, my friends. So if you don't mind, I'd like to be left in peace. Besides, I made amends with Mister Big, so what are you fellows going after me for?"

"If you were on the coppers' side, then what in Zootopia are you doing here?"

"You know Bellwether got out, right? Somehow, she's sitting in the mayor's chair again, only she's not, if you get my drift."

"Bellwether's the mayor under an alias, we know."

"If you fellows know that, then do you care to tell me what else you know?" I asked.

"After lunch, Wilde."

"If I can. Death row inmates are automatically in twenty-four-seven lockdown."

"Then how'd you get here?"

"I've been a little angel, so they decided to give me just these twenty minutes of freedom, which, by the way, are almost up, so I have go," I whispered.

Kevin nodded, then replied. "All right," he said, nodding. Try not to get yourself killed, would you?"

"I don't know what I can do about that, but I'll try," I replied. "But on a similar topic, what are you four doing in here?"

"We work for Mister Big, so what do you think?"

"I think…"

"Okay, you five, break it up! Wilde, Officer Penbrooke will escort you to your cell. As for you bears, move it!"

Just a few words of advice- when a warden says that you'll be escorted to your cell, a more appropriate term is frogmarch, paws pinned behind my back.

Chapter Twelve

Twenty Minutes Later

Judy's (Alaina's) Cell

I had just dozed off when…

Bang! Bang! Bang!

"I'm up! I'm up, warden!" I shouted. "What is it?"

"Don't be getting out of line there, rabbit. I have a visitor for you, if you'd like."

"I thought I wasn't allowed visitors," I replied.

"This is extra-special. Head Warden's orders. Beats me as to why, but what Jack Savage wants, Jack Savage gets, don't you know."

"Yes, I know that rather well. Now, if you please, could you tell me who my visitor is?"

"You'll see," he said, reaching behind him. What I saw next I could hardly believe. "Nick?"

The fox in front of me only nodded. What else could he do with a muzzle strapped on his face as tightly as it could be?

"You two have twenty minutes. And who the hell is Nick? This here's Chase Blacktip. There's a reason for your scars, and it's this fellow. Why you'd want him around you is beyond me, but, again, Head Warden's orders. I'll be back, and fox?" he drawled. "You'd better not kill her, or I'll kill you."

"Oh, Nick! What happened to you?" Again, he didn't speak, tears pouring from his eyes.

"I'm dead, Judy. Dead, dead, dead!"

"Not yet, you're not."

"But I will be soon, Judy. Look," he said, showing me a paper.

I read it, and it said: [|Blacktip, Chase V. | Prisoner No. 24601 | Death Row Inmate | Execution Date: March 4, 2016|]

"What? I thought it was supposed to be the fifteenth!"

"Well, there was a technicality in the system, you see."

"What sort of technicality, Nick?"

"The kind of tech-Nick-ality that has me dying in five days."

"That was horrible, Nicholas, and you didn't answer my question. What technicality?"

"Apparently, a judge can waive a week and a half of a death row inmate's sentence if they feel that it would be more humane."

"Says who? Show me the proof! I won't let my friend die for nothing!"

"You just might have to, Carrots. I love you, sweetheart."

"I love you too, Nick."

"Bye, Judy. Wish me luck, okay?"

"Alright, but before you go, I have a request."

"What is it, Judy?"

I got down on one knee and pulled out a little box.

"Judy, is that what I think it is?"

"Nicholas Wilde, will you marry me?"

"How did you get that past security?"

"No idea, Slick, but you didn't answer the question."

"Yes, you dumb bunny. Yes, I will."

"Now, where are we going to go for our honeymoon, fox-o-mine?"


	3. Part 3: Chapter 13

"That's an interesting question, Nick. I don't think we'll be going anywhere, at least, not anytime soon. You, for one, go zap soon, so let's worry about that first, shall we?"

"I'm not worried about it."

"Don't you dare lie to me, Nicholas! That's bull, and both of us know it! You are scared, Mister 'Never-Let-Them-See-That-They-Get-To-You,' you just don't want to show it, and I have a pretty good idea as to why."

"Then do tell, Judy," I spat. Please. Just try and tell me what I'm thinking, why don't you?"

"Fine, I will. First, there was a fox."

"Well, as you can see, I'm not a rabbit. Get on with it, Fluff."

"That fox had gone through hell and back before one overly-energetic bunny hopped her way on into his life. He thought she was so stupid- how could a bunny be a cop? Hah! But when she tricked him into coming along with her? He was impressed."

"Am I really that easy to read, Judy?"

"Having so many siblings makes it easy."

"You have a point there…"

"To continue, that fox went on to serve in the ZPD, great, right?"

"Yes, Judy, absolutely. Except you're missing a few things, so let me finish up, okay?"

"Whatever…"

"Do you know why I'm such a cynic? Do you really? No, well, let me tell you. I told you that the Junior Ranger Scouts muzzled me, but what I didn't tell you was that they put a shock collar- exactly like this one- on me as well."

"Oh, Nick…"

"Yeah, well, I was so upset by the muzzling that I couldn't stop sobbing, and you know how these things react to emotion. Anyways, there's a reason that an electric chair scares me, and it's beyond the fact that they're deadly. It's the shock part of it. That collar malfunctioned, and it shocked me so badly that it seared my fur off and put me in the Intensive Care Unit at Zootopia General for three weeks.

To top things off, the only reason I lived was my mom. I didn't come home on time that night, so she went looking for me. She found me in a bloody heap, unconscious, by the side of those stairs. I lost half my blood, and those three weeks in the ICU were enough to make me flunk third grade. I was so angry- I quit school then and there, and let me tell you, they were more than happy to get rid of me.

Even forty-plus years after the collar laws were repealed, anti-predator sentiments were at during-collar highs, and teachers hated having predators in their classes, so, albeit illegal, teachers would do anything they could to get predators out of their classes, be it giving them so much work that they couldn't keep up, or just outright flunking them. Only three percent of predators graduated each year, and only forty percent moved on to the next grade.

Anyways, my teacher was a combination of the two- when I was in the hospital, he never sent any work to me, so when I got back, there was a stack of work to do that was taller than I was. Being a predator and a fox, my teacher, who was a mouse, told me that there was no way on Earth that I could ever do it all, and he gave me an automatic F in all my classes."

"Nick, how did you deal with that?" I started sobbing. "H-How did you…?"

"I didn't, Judy. As I said, I quit then and there. Con artist Nick was born, and I think you can figure out the rest. That enough history for one day, Judy?"

"More than, Nick, more than enough for several lifetimes. Now to stop it all, and I hope we won't be too late."

"What do you mean by that, Judy?"

"Let's get you out of here."


	4. Part 4: Chapter 14

Execution Day

March 4, 2016

* * *

 

Cell 12321-13521

Inmate No. 24601 [Blacktip, Chase V.]

* * *

 

Tap...Tap...Tap...Tap…

"Nick, drumming your feet isn't going to solve anything, now is it?"

"That doesn't mean that it isn't soothing."

"It's not soothing, it's annoying. Knock it off already, would you?"

"No, I won't knock it off. Not when I know that this sound is going to be one of the last things I hear. I don't want to die, Judy, but what other options do I have, huh? I only have ten minutes left, so leave a dead fox in peace!"

"Nicholas Piberius Wilde! You stop that right now, I will come right over there and slug you in the snout. I don't think you want to go out with a broken snout, now do you? Although, Karma knows, I have been itching to wipe that smirk off your prissy face. I may be your wife, but they can't re-arrest us for domestic violence now, and for goodness' sake, I thought you were happy. Am I wrong? Answer me, darn it!"

"Calm the hormones, Judy. Am I happy? Yes, I am. Then again, for obvious reasons, no, no I am not at all happy."

As if to emphasize his point, a guard came over to our cell and banged on it. "Listen up, corpses! You will come with me now. Prisoner Longear, you are not to be executed, whereas Mister Blacktip, you will be upon the stroke of noon. It is up to you to choose how you go."

"What are my options, Officer?"

"Firing squad or lethal injection- pick your poison, prisoner."

Nick thought for a minute, then spoke: "How's the firing squad sound to you, Officer….What's your name again? I hate electricity, Officer, so as much as I hate bullets, I think this will be the better option."

"James Wolford, ZPD Precinct One. All senior officers serve two-week shifts. As for the lead, sounds fine. I never did like shocks anyways."

This threw me for a loop. What was an officer doing as a prison guard? That was a policy I'd never heard of, not in all my years at Precinct One.

"Why the change, Officer?" Nick asked. I could see he was losing his cool. Uh, oh. When Nicholas Wilde was scared, you sure had better be yourself, because he never lost his cool. Never, never, never.

That, and Wolford had been one of his best friends at the Precinct. Now, he was going to kill him.

"That darned rabbit Savage is pulling the strings again," he said, then bent down to whisper into Nick's ear. "You think I'm fooled by all this, Nick? I know it's you, buddy. I'll do what I can, alright?" He cuffed Nick and started to lead him away, then called after me. "Longear, keep up, would you?"

Nick was led out into the prison yard, where a line of armed guards already stood at attention. Wolford stood him in the middle of the line, then told me to stand aside. It was then that I noticed the time- the clock on the prison wall read ten seconds to noon.

Wolford began the countdown, and another guard held me back.

"Present arms! Ready, aim, three, two, one, fire!"

Bang!


	5. Part 5: Chapter 15

Well, s***. Those bullets were flying at me, and there was no dodging them now. I squeezed my eyes shut and waited. Please, Karma, I thought, make it quick. I don't want Carrots to see me suffer.

Three, two, one…

A blossom of pain erupted in my shoulder, then another in my thigh, then in my chest, then...nothing.

The last thing I heard was Judy screaming: "No! Nick!"

* * *

Three Years Later

They found me innocent, after all, and they found Nick innocent too, albeit posthumously. Sweet cheese and crackers, that bunny ex-boyfriend of mine is a prick. He was always late to our dates, every one, and that impeccable sense of timing just had to come into play. As soon as Nick had dropped to the ground, he came bursting out into the yard, crying "He's innocent! He's innocent!"

Karma knows what he was thinking then, but he was exactly ten seconds too late. Nick Wilde, or Chase Blacktip, as Jack called him, was dead. The medics tried to resuscitate him, but it was too late. They signed his death notice at 12:09 PM, Zootopian Standard Time, on the morning of the fourth of April, 2016.

Today is March fifteenth, 2019, three years and eleven days after I saw him shot, and my life has been a living hell since. Bellwether revealed herself, and when the city reacted by rushing the mayor's office, the lead fountains erupted. Forty thousand Zootopians died either on that day, or within the next two weeks, as the ZKVD came barreling down the streets with their turrets ablaze. Of the remaining population of Zootopia, all three hundred thousand mammalian souls, only a few hundred now remain in the city, and rarely does dare leave their bunker.

Oddly enough, there's still mail delivery, done by Bellwether's cronies. Though most of the city has been blown to ashes, Bellwether ordered the construction of miles upon miles of mailboxes to allow for mail collection and to give the illusion that it's still just grand in the city.

The rest of Pangaea doesn't know what's going on within the city, not with several hundred-foot tall walls lining the city's perimeter and the ZGB running sweeps day and night, keeping any outside mammal away.

I'm sure that there are millions of confused mammals out there, wondering what on Earth is with their children? And why haven't they responded? Well, with ZGB henchmen undercover in every remaining post office, it's pretty easy to pretend to the civilians that there's just no mail today, no mail for the thousandth consecutive day.

How I survived is something completely beyond me. I don't know, I just know that the bombed out shell of 1955 Cypress Grove Lane had a bunker in its basement. I don't know why, and nor do I care. I was extremely shocked when I found this place, even more so when I found a full garden inside, electricity, and, the best part of all, water! I figured out that it had been drawing off of the city's water system, which, who knows how, was still intact. With nobody using it, the system was full, and so now I have enough food and water down here to last me years.

As for the collar, that Karma-forsaken thing, I'm still wearing it. The batteries still have a charge, while not strong enough anymore to cause any real problems, are still able to produce a little shock. I just have to hope that they'll die soon. I also to say thank you to the designer of this thing.

I never thought that I'd ever say that, but it wasn't until I got in the shower that this thing had for the first time until I realized that there was an electric collar around my neck, and water conducts electricity.

"Stupid bunny!" I'd scolded myself. Then I realized that I was still alive. "Oh...waterproof…"

Anyways, it was during one of my bi-weekly showers (always conservative, rabbits are) when I heard a banging on my door. I assumed it was the ZKVD, so I grabbed a rifle and a towel (whoever built this thing was a crazy doomsday prepper), and went to the door.

"Who is it?" I shouted. The voice that shot back a response was on the verge of death, but I still knew it.

"How the hey...Nick?"


	6. Part 6: Chapter 16

"Is that even possible…?" I muttered. If it was a trick, then I was dead if I opened the door. If it really was Nick, though…Oh, how I hoped.

Screeee…...Darn thing needs to be oiled. I haven't opened it in years. It slowly swung out and open, and in flopped…

An arctic wolf?

"What the hey? Who are you, and how do you have Nick's voice?" I said, aiming my rifle at the strange creature's head."

"Judy, ease up on that hammer, would you?"

"How do you know my name? How did you find me?"

"Well, Mrs. Wilde, you're in my basement. Besides that, look at my hand, would you?"

I did, and on it was my ring. "Where did you get that? Did you pick over Nick's corpse in the morgue, you creep? And...wait a sec- your basement?"

"1955 Cypress Grove Lane-yes, this is my basement. And yes, I am Nick, Carrots. Goodness gracious, this fur dye is annoying."

"I still don't believe you. Now, get the heck out," I said, firing a bullet at his feet. "Move it, before I make such a ruckus that you'll get arrested."

"I wouldn't do that," he said.

"Oh, then what would you do?"

When he didn't respond, I slapped him across the face as hard as I could. "Answer me now, or the next one goes through your brain, wolfie."

"What is it going to take to convince you? Huh? I thought you missed me, so what are you doing trying to kill me?"

"I'm not trying to kill Nick Wilde, I'm trying to kill you."

"For the last time, we're the same. Look, the first time we met, I tricked you into buying me a Jumbopop, remember? You couldn't believe how I'd tricked you, and you couldn't believe how you were standing in wet cement by the end of it all either."

That next day, you came across me again, booted my stroller, and blackmailed me into coming along with you. Either that, or you were going to have me arrested for tax evasion. I saw no choice but to come, I mean, I was a regular at the local cop shop- Precinct 13, Happytown. Why Bogo decided to look that over is beyond me, but I know one thing: you know you love me. Now, can you point that gun somewhere else, please? I've been shot and shot at more times in the last three years than I can count.

Do you believe me now, Judith Laverne Hopps? Or am I going to need to provide even more evidence that I am your foxy beau?"

"Nick...how?"

"Sit down, Judy, it's a long story."

"Not until you come in and bolt that door behind you. With all the guards on the street, do you have any idea just how dangerous what you're doing is?"

"Geez, Judy, relax, would you?"

"Close the Karma-forsaken door, then I will. Close it!"

"Fine, fine."

SCREECH…

"That thing really needs some oiling, wouldn't you say?"

"Not if the last time I left this place was over two years ago."

"How did you survive that long?" Then he slapped himself on the forehead. "Oh, right."

"You are one heck of a doomsday prepper, Nicholas Wilde."

"Yeah, well, it helped you survive, didn't it?" he asked. "Now, you wanted a story? I'll give you a story."

* * *

Bunker ZT-NPW

Happytown, Zootopia: 1955 Cypress Grove Lane

March 7, 2016

* * *

Judy's said it before, and I don't know if I'll ever hear it again- those five words that I said to her on our first day as partners: "You know you love me." Believe me, those words are all I'm running on right now.

I don't know what hurts me more right about now- the shocks from my collar that run through me every ten minutes like clockwork or the bullet holes through my abdomen. That rabbit Savage killed me- he gave the order; he killed me again with lead ninheteen days later. Then, when he decided not to kill me, he was too late. I was lying in the prison yard in a bloody heap.

So here's a few words to the wise- there's a reason they call him Savage. The guy has the largest stockpile of Night Howler the world has ever seen. Bellwether got her idea from him, only he wasn't using the stuff to make people savage. No, when given in tiny doses, it's one heck of a pick-me-up, and apparently it works rather well on heart attack victims. It also works rather well on dead foxes.

Dead foxes? Does that mean I'm a zombie? Sure, you could think of it that way, but I'd really prefer not to. I hate zombies- hate them, hate them, hate them. Any time I'd watch a zombie movie with my dad, I'd have nightmares for weeks after.

So that was Problem One solved. Nick Wilde was back in commission. Now it was time for Problem Two- Judy. I wanted to get back to her as soon as possible, but since he just had to be a pain, Savage said no. "No, Nicholas, you can't just go barging on into the prison- everyone thinks you're dead, well, all except Wolford. This was his idea."

Since you're going to ask- I can see it-yes, I knew you weren't going to die. I didn't want you to, you have to believe me here- I needed you out of the way. Bellwether's plotting something, and I, along with the rest of the ZIA, are powerless to stop it. That's why we need you. We have a plan- Project Firefox. All we need is the firefox- that would be you, Nick. Are you willing to take up the challenge? Be warned- it very well could be deadly. As for the firefox, well, if you want to know what that is, you'll have to join us. Think carefully, Nicholas. It is your choice, and only your choice, but know this- if you don't agree, Zootopia will fall. Think carefully, and I hope you'll make the right decision."

Then he left, leaving me with a decision that I didn't want to make, but also with the hope of seeing Judy again.


	7. Part 7: Chapter 17

"So what came next, Nick?"

"Take a stab at it, Judy."

"I escaped, and my claws hate me for it. Remind me not to dig my way out of prison again."

"Don't dig yourself out of prison again, Nick."

"Not now. I meant...ugh, do rabbits even understand rhetorical questions?"

"Yes, we do. This rabbit, however, has a penchant for being sarcastic."

"Oh, really?"

"Don't you start. You dug yourself out- how? I can't imagine that was a pleasant experience, and you'd been shot, dumb-dumb, so what on Earth were you thinking?"

"I know exactly what I was thinking. It was I want to see Judy again. When you've been separated from someone you love, you'll do anything, and I mean anything to get back to them. Savage knew I was innocent; he just left me there. The only other person in on it was Wolford, and he couldn't do anything. So yes, Judy, I dug. When the prison was built, they handily forgot to pave the courtyard. From there, it was only a matter of not being spotted. That's where fur dye came in handy."

The guards may think themselves well-trained, but with a professional con artist on their hands, well, that's an entirely different story. Having some time alone is also a perk. Gurneys lend themselves very well to being tents, or shields, or battering rams and shovels."

"You've yet to get to the digging part. Hurry up, would you?"

"Relax, would you? I was just getting there. Anyways, I spent three months locked in the morgue. I got food every day, Wolford came down to chat with me every day. He never came in, though, I think he didn't want to arouse suspicion. I got bored one day and I started pawing at the walls- I'm terribly anxious, did you know that? Well, with those bullets still sitting in me, I knew it was now or never, I could see the little red lines marching up my chest."

"Nick, that was a septic infection! Do you know how deadly those are?"

"Yes, and we foxes are especially susceptible to them. Have you ever seen me lick my nose?"

"Don't remind me. The last time we went out for ice cream, goodness, Nick, you spent hours licking your snout."

"Don't judge, Carrots, it was good ice cream. That sort of thing makes it really easy for foxes to get cold germs in more places, though, especially when we have a cold. If I don't have a tissue, I'll probably use my tongue."

"You are so immature, you know that?"

"Yes, Judy, I do. I don't think I ever really aged past twelve."

"That would explain some things."

"Anyways, I saw those lines and I almost lost it. I started pawing at the walls as hard as I could, but to no avail. It was minutes, no, probably hours later when I finally stopped. My claws were gone, and I had done absolutely nothing to the wall. When I collapsed, I knew I was done for. No one was going to let me out, and no one was going to help me. Except- and here's where things get a little otherworldly- there was a lab attached to the morgue. I don't know how I hadn't noticed it before, but I did now."

"That's not otherworldly, Nick, that's a standard autopsy lab. Every prison has one."

"Does everyone have cloning tubes? Hmm, I didn't think so. Well, this one did. It also, thank goodness, had forceps. Out came the bullets, hooray, then in came the curiosity. What were these doing here? I had heard about them, but I'd dismissed them as a hoax. Now, here I was, face-to-face with some of them. I don't know what it was- luck or something else, but I tripped against the control panel of one of these tubes, and I heard something click inside it.

The thing started speaking, honest-to-Karma. DNA Scanned, it said. Preparing cloning process. Beginning cloning process, specifications accounted for. Three, two, one.A light started to glow, then as soon as it had started, it was done, and I heard a new voice. 'Dad?'"

"Dad?"

"Yes, that's what I heard, and I looked down to find this little guy." He gestured behind him, and out stepped a teenaged fox, the color opposite of Nick.

"You're saying-"

"Yes, this guy. I don't know how it's possible, but it certainly is. He was freezing- at least he had a towel to wrap up in. He looked at me with the most pleading eyes, and he said, 'Dad, what are we doing down here?"

I don't know much, Judy, but what I knew then was that I now had ten years of memories in my head that hadn't been there thirty seconds before, and I knew I had a son. 'Hey, Luke, we have to get out of here, okay?'"

"So you're Luke," I said. "I'm Judy, but I think you can call me Mom, alright?"

"M-Mom?" Luke stuttered.

"Yes, I'm your dad's wife, so I guess. But it's up to you."

"Mom sounds great," he sobbed. "I just want this war to be over."

"Me too, sweetie, me too. So, that story- Luke, do you want to tell me?"

"I'd love to, but I have to do something first."

"What's that?" He tackle-hugged me and started weeping. "This. Dad told me about you, but he thought you were dead."

"I would be, if your dad hadn't been such a doomsday prepper."

"Well," Nick said," it came in handy, didn't it?"

"It sure did," I said. "Don't interrupt your- our- son, okay. Luke, you were saying?"

"I was saying-" sniff- "that we thought you were dead. We only got out because of Jack."

"Jack?! That buck has been more of a pain in the tail than I could ever have imagined. Heck, he's the reason we're in this mess."

"If it wasn't for him, I wouldn't exist. And yes, Jack. He let us out of prison, provided we were disguised."

"Wolf suits come in handy, Judy, boy do they. We slipped out past the guards, easy as pie. All I had to show my papers, and we were free, Luke zipped up inside."

"That leaves questions still to be answered. How did you get past the guards in that sort of getup? They're certainly well-trained enough to see past disguises."

"I'll have you know that my paws are certainly strong enough to twist pipes open."

"All right, but what relevance does that have?"

"I put sleeping powder in the water line to the guards' quarters. When they drank the water, it made them woozy enough so that we could slip on past, as they could barely see."

"Only there was a catch, Mom- Bellwether was watching, and she had her sights set on us. On the streets, it was only a matter of time."

"Only a matter of time until what?"

"Until she made her move. We didn't even see it coming. I should have been prepared."

"Just like you, Nick," I whispered into his ear. "Street smart and clever, and I don't suppose him hustling with you helped any."

"He didn't hustle with me, Judy. At least, not in the memories that are mine. But in the memories that aren't, well, he's there, so yes, you're right."

I leaned away from Nick's ear and turned to Luke. "What did she do, Luke?"

"She caught us."

"That can't have been good…"

"It wasn't, but-" his ear twitched and turned upward. "Incoming!"


	8. Chapter 8

Three bomb detonations echoed right above us, each one not two seconds from the last.

"Sounds like those were twenty-pounders," Luke said. "I've never gotten over the sound of them, though."

"Might that explain why you have your paws over your ears?"

"Yes, Mom," he said, tucking his tail between his legs. "I hope you're not mad at me. I mean, I was only ten when all of this started- I try to be tough, for Dad, you know, but they scare me so badly. One fell right behind me yesterday- it nearly killed me."

"I understand completely, Luke, I really do," I said, putting my arm around his shoulder. " Can I tell you something- well, not until you untuck that tail. You have nothing to be afraid of, I promise."

"I don't get it, Mom. I have plenty to be afraid of, you don't have to pretend for me."

"Not if you have hope. I get through my days on hope. It's all I have left. If it wasn't for your dad, I don't think I could have kept on going. Nick, did you ever tell him how we met?"

"He knows, remember? He was there, Judy- the kid's thirteen," he whispered. "Yes, I know you won't remember, but he does."

"When I became a cop, my first case nearly destroyed the city. No, scratch that, it did. The official records show that I resigned during a meeting with Chief Bogo and Mayor Bellwether, but I was fired. Chief Bogo fired me before that meeting for insubordination, he just wanted to cover that up from Bellwether and from the press. Nick was the only reason I got through the whole thing.

"The darn fox disappeared for months, goodness, it was nearly a year until I found him under a bridge, and those months were the most miserable of my entire life. When I found him, I bared my soul to him, and I started bawling like a baby. I had never felt so awful, so it was enough of a shock to have him not angry at me, let alone outright forgive me."

"I remember, Mom."

"How…?"

"You guys got married just about three years ago. Mom, the Night Howler case was when I was ten, don't you remember that? You and Dad were college sweethearts and you got engaged. It wasn't for nearly a decade that you got married. By that time, both of you were cops. Dad and I spent years on the street together- after he got out of college, no one would hire him. You went back to the farm to save up until you had enough money for the ZPD Academy. We visited you every other day, don't you remember that?

I just stood there, dumbstruck.

"Mom? Are you alright over there? You were just staring off somewhere."

"Yes, Luke, I'm fine, but I must have the oddest case of amnesia, because no, I…,"

I trailed off, because something had started to tickle the back of my brain. Memories, to be precise. Memories of Nick and I at Zootopia Wyvern University. Go, Dragons! Memories of Nick and I in class together, and him whispering into my ear that he wanted to go on a date with me; our relationship went on and he proposed to me, apparently, I had said yes. Then came memories of a crazy night and a positive pregnancy test; me telling Nick and him fainting.

Three months later, I was in the hospital. "It's a boy," the nurse had said. "That, and a fox." Then she had fainted. I would've too, I suppose, if I was delivering for a rabbit and her child had been a fox kit. Lucky thing, I suppose, that she'd passed Luke off to the doctor standing next to her, a Doctor Honey Badger if I remember correctly. But these days, I wasn't quite sure. I knew that none of these things had ever happened, heck, I'd only met Nick four years ago, let alone gone to college with him thirteen years ago. That would have made me only sixteen. Well, my mom did always call me her hundred-watt bulb.

"Once you eliminate the impossible, whatever remains, however improbable, must be the truth." That was a quote from some old Star Trunk episode, I don't know how that got in there. It certainly seemed impossible, but here I was, this teenage fox's mom.

"Nick, are you thinking what I'm thinking?"

"That we met each other in college and hooked up? Yes, I am."

"Is it possible to break the space-time continuum?"

"You already did that, Nick."

"What are you guys talking about?" Luke asked. "Is everything alright?"

"Yes, it is, honey, and we have to get out of here now."

"Why? What's going on?"

"I don't know. That's what we're going to have to find out."

The city was empty when I opened the hatch. Not just devoid of any living soul. Empty, as in nothing left standing.

"Oh, sweet cheese and crackers…," I muttered. That muttonhead Smellwether...remind me not to trust any more sheep, would you?"

"I don't think you need any reminders, Judy. So, Mrs. Wilde, what's the plan?"

"We have to get back to the lab, now!"

"Do you have any idea how far that is from here?"

"Yes, I have a perfect idea. I ran here from the prison three years ago, your execution day, in fact."

"And you've been holed up down here since?"

"Yes, and I'm not anymore, so we have to move, and move fast, or we're going to be spotted!"

"Halt! Who goes there?" a voice called out after us. "Friend or foe?"

"That depends on who you are," Luke called back. "Show yourself, or I'll start shooting!"

"Fierce kid," I whispered.

"No kidding, especially considering he doesn't have a gun," Nick whispered back.

A head popped out from behind a tree, and... "Jack? What in blazes are you doing here?"

"That's a long story, and I'm not telling you here. Come on, you three. Follow me!"


	9. Part 9: Chapter 19

"Ow-ow-ow-ow-ow-ow…."

"Nick, hush up, would you?"

"If I wasn't stepping on broken glass, maybe I'd consider it, Jack. Until then, no."

"Can you at least be a little quieter there, Nick. I don't want to get caught," I said.

"Yeah, well, me neither. However, having my paw pads sliced open, well, that's a different story."

"You're a tough fox, Nick. I know it, I've seen it," Jack called back. "Judy?"

"Yes?"

"Look behind you. What do you see?"

I did as I was instructed, and I saw a pair of thin red lines trailing us, leading directly to Nick's feet. "Oh, my. Nick, why didn't you say something sooner?"

"He did, Mom," Luke piped up. "He's been complaining for the last three miles. It's getting on my nerves, you know."

"Just where did you get that mouth from?"

"What do you think? Anyways, I'm just looking out for our safety. I don't want to get caught anymore than the next mammal, but I also don't want Dad to bleed out, Mom. I love you both too much to lose you now."

"Alright, alright. Thank you, Luke. I love you too, and I hope to Karma Nick will be alright. How are you holding up there, Nick?"

"Just lovely, Judy. Although I'm a little lightheaded right about now. Losing blood at this rate is sure to mess with you."

"Jack, how much longer to the bunker? I don't know if Nick's going to make it."

"He will, Judy, I promise. I need to wrap his paws, though. Nick, do you have anything I can use?"

"Here," he groaned, pulling a red cloth from his pocket. "This should do. It's saved our lives before, it'll save mine again."

"Dad, you were a Junior Ranger Scout? You never told me! I'm a Tenderpaw myself, Mom. I know you never could come to the meetings, but I'm one too." Then his face sagged. "Or I was, before the city got blown to bits."

"So you must really know your knots, Luke, with all your practice."

"I sure do," he said. "Dad, can you pass me your neckerchief, please?"

"Can do...whoop!"

"Great, now what?" Jack muttered. "I can't carry him. Eighty pounds of unconscious fox is a bit much for me."

"We can," Luke said. "Mom, you grab his legs, I'll grab his arms."

"Got it," I replied, squatting down to grab Nick's legs. Luke, can you tie his feet up?"

Luke did as he was asked, then stepped to Nick's head and steadied it.

"I'll guide. Ready?"

"Yes, I am, are you?"

"The same goes. On your marks, three, two, one, lift!" Once we had lifted him, there was a slight problem- "Goodness gracious, Nick. What have you been eating?"

"There's no time to figure that out now, Judy. Come on, or we're going to be spotted. I know he's heavy, but can you two run?"

"Run? Yes, I can run," I said. "But wait just a carrot-picking minute, Jack. You tried to kill me, you succeeded in killing Nick, though you did save his life, which I'll credit you for. But why the sudden change in heart?"

"I wanted to make it up to you for all those years ago. I was late to every one, wasn't I?"

"Every one what?" Luke asked.

"Every date. Yes, we dated in high school. But when he never showed up on time, well, that was the end of that relationship."

I turned back to Jack. "So why now, when there's an enormous mess on our hands, one that we're going to be part of if we don't get a move on?"

"Because mammals change, Judy, and I hate having people angry at me." He said no more, just took off sprinting down the street, Luke and I following as quickly as we could.

* * *

Three Hours Later

* * *

¼ Mile From 1955 Cypress Grove Lane And Safety

0 Miles From Trouble

* * *

We had almost made it back when I heard a voice that I thought I'd never hear again. Goodness, I really gave up on Nick too easily. I never give up, so why had I done it now? Why had the ever-unshakable Judy Hopps given up now?

Because it was hopeless, that was why. Nick was finally dead, Bellwether was in control, and the city was a burning heap. "Oh, Nick…," I whispered. Why did you have to go?"

"I didn't, Judy. I'm right here."

"Why do you keep doing that to me? Every time I think you're dead, poof, there you are, magically alive and well! Can you try to at least stay conscious?"

"Um, Mom? I think there's a more pressing danger right now..."

"Oh, shoot...Incoming! Run, run, run!"

We ran as hard as we could, but we were just a tad too slow. We were lucky, though. The bomb fell right at our feet, but it knocked us aside instead of killing us. "Everyone all right?"

"Not really-cough-but not much worse for wear. That's a perk, I'd say."

"I'd say it's a perk that you're alive, let alone talking."

"I'd say that's a perk we won't have for too much longer."

"You had better not die on me again," I muttered.

"In that case, why don't we hurry up?" Jack said, gritting his teeth. "If you numbskulls had been listening to what I've been telling you, we wouldn't be in this mess."

"Just shut up, Jack. Arguing with Mom won't solve anything. It will, however, get us killed. Now, let's go, shall we?"

"Fine, let's." But before we could do that, another bomb started to fall. This one was different than the last one- it was bigger, but it fell slowly, almost as if it was a feather just drifting to the ground. Before it hit the ground, it started spouting word in a robotic voice: "Time bomb activated. Beginning descent." It then started to fall faster and faster, leaving me just standing there, speechless.

"Eighty-eight miles per hour velocity achieved. Beginning detonation." A white light overtook everything, followed by a sonic blast that left my ears ringing.

I tried to remain conscious, but to no avail. I was gone.

When I awoke, something didn't seem right. I looked up to see a city I was sure I knew, but it seemed so much older. A few centuries before our time sort of older. "Nick? Where are we? I'm so scared, Nick..."

"If you mean when are we, Judy, I don't exactly know myself and I'm scared too."

"This just got interesting, didn't it?"

"Goodness gracious, did it ever, Judy."


	10. Part 10: Chapter 20

I woke up sputtering, having breathed in plenty of ash.

"I...I'm alive?" Then I looked around. "And I'm not where I was. No, it looks the same. Then I heard a newspaper boy calling out: "Rat The Ripper Caught! Rat The Ripper Caught!"

Rat The Ripper Caught? But that was in 1839. That would mean I'm in 1839. Well, this just keeps getting weirder and weirder… I swear I'm seeing things. But no, everything seemed all too real to be a fake.

That left a whole bunch of questions unanswered. The most pressing was the matter of my being alive. I could've sworn I was going under for the last time. Next- what was the timestream doing to me? Well, I suppose I know that answer. Luke exists. That machine tore the timestream. And as Isaac Newtrunk said, "For every action, there is an equal and opposite reaction." I guess this is the 'equal and opposite and reaction.' Which means I'm not seeing things.

Okay, Nicholas, just breathe. Be sensible. Sensible? How is that possible? I just got blown back a few centuries by a literal time bomb. How am I supposed to be sensible?

That sure is an interesting question. I don't know.

Is Luke alright? Judy? Jack? As much as I don't like that rabbit…

I don't know that, either.

Another question- how? How are we here? Another question I can't answer, but I'll try my best.

But now to stop being so introspective and solve the problem.

"Everyone okay? Sound off!"

"Here, Nick."

"Okay, that's Jack. Luke? Judy?"

No voices called back.

"They didn't get blown up with us, Nick. They're in 2019, and we're a hundred and eighty years behind them."

"Well, you're certainly taking this in stride, Jack. Have you even paused to consider the fact that this is all impossible?"

"Have you paused to consider the fact that I might know something that you don't?"

"Pray tell, what might that be?"

"I developed these things, Nick."

"What? And you didn't tell anyone? Have you and idea just how foolish that was, you idiotic rabbit? You've let the city get blown to ashes, you let my son and wife suffer the same fate, you blew yourself up while dragging me along, and you didn't bother to tell anyone that you had another trick up your sleeve?"

"What would have happened if I had gone public, Nicholas?" Jack spat. "You're a cop, you should know that criminals will go after any weapons they can find!"

"What if the criminal was a manic sheep who nearly destroyed the city once, escaped from jail, infiltrated the government, then destroyed the city from the city from the inside out again? Could you have at least considered putting them under closer guard?"

"Be quiet, alright? We want to get out of this alive, now don't we?"

"I'm not quite sure whether I want you to or not, but I know that I do myself, yes."

"Close enough. To save your own life, Nick, be quiet."

"Can you at least explain some things to me?"

"Let's get off the street first, then yes."

* * *

 

Same Place, One Hundred and Thirty Years Later

* * *

I'm not with Dad or Jack, but I have Mom. Knowing Dad, he'll be worried sick about me and Mom, seeing as he's always trying to keep an eye on me. Goodness gracious, he such a worrywart. Lucky me, I inherited those same traits. Lucky us, we're stuck in the past too. Very lucky indeed that today, October 29, 1929, is the day that Zootopia was invaded by Joseph Swinton's Bullshevik armies.

About that- in sixth grade, my history teacher, Mrs. Frisby, taught us all about this day. Zootopia fell, it was a Sowviet territory for the next sixty years. Swinton ruled by brutality- I wonder where Bellwether got her ideas.

Anyways, my teacher told us something that scares me still to this day- that all foxes were conscripted into the army, then sent on missions where they were sure to die. As I'm a fox, I think I have cause to worry if I'm now walking the streets on that dreaded day.

Speaking of trouble, here it comes now. "Run, Mom, run!"

* * *

March 15, 1839

Slaughterhouse Five, Meadowlands

* * *

"What are we doing in a slaughterhouse, Jack? Especially when we're trying to run from the slaughterhouse. Doesn't that seem, oh, I don't know, backward?"

"We're not in just any slaughterhouse, Nick. We're in Slaughterhouse Five- this is the home base of Zootopia's mafia."

"Speaking of this place, how does something like this even exist? All the predators eat insects, and the prey eat vegetables. So where does a killing factory come into the mix?"

"It's not really a slaughterhouse, Nick, it's a morgue. A place where the city can store all the bodies it can't bury."

"Awfully morbid, if you ask me."

"They put them all in coffins, if that's what you're worried about."

"No, I'm just considering the possible connections between dead mammals and an organization which has assassins for hire being based in the same building."

"Good point. Anyways, have you brushed up on your history?"

"I flunked out in third grade, Jack."

"Funny, because you graduated as salutatorian. I remember that rather distinctly. Judy was valedictorian."

"Can I tell you something, Jack?"

"What?"

"We're here for a reason. Time has ripped itself apart. In the version of the past I remember, I flunked out. I flunked out, and I spent my life on the streets. When I was, oh, maybe twelve, I met Finnick, and we started hustling together. But the other day, something changed. My last day in prison, you probably remember, I was locked in the morgue. Anyways, that morgue has a lab adjoining it, and I went in there to take a look. I tripped and faceplanted against what were apparently cloning tubes. I know, because that teenaged fox that's been with us is my son. Someway, somehow, Judy's his mom.

"But here's the funny thing, Jack, is that I'm not a dad, not in the history I know to be real. I was bullied by the Junior Ranger Scouts, that torture sent me onto a downward spiral that was only worsened by older, prejudiced teachers who remembered the collar days and thought that they should still be in effect. Anyways, those teachers decided to give me and my parents an ultimatum: they would flunk me on purpose, or my parents could take me out of school. They chose not to take me out of school, and it just got worse and worse and worse. It reached a point where my once-solid A+ grades were solid Fs. I couldn't take it. I told my parents I wasn't going back. They tried to send me, but I ran away. I haven't seen or heard from my parents since."

"That's the exact opposite of the Nick Wilde I know," Jack said. "The Nicholas Wilde I know, or at least I think I know, graduated second in his class, he was the captain of the track team, he was Class President."

"That's new history, Jack. That history is not my history. This history- right here, right now, is not my history, it should not be. This whole thing is impossible, both of us know it. But as I was just saying, history changed, and it's about to change again."

"What the hey is that supposed to mean?"

"Look at you, all polite and proper. Anyways, there's a case to solve, so let's get cracking."

* * *

October 29, 1929

* * *

"Well, that was close."

"I'll say." Then something tickled my mind. "Something's different, Luke. I don't know how, I don't know where, I don't know when. Where are the archives?"

"At the corner of Pack and Flock Streets. Oh, what do you know, here we are," Luke said, pointing up at the sign above his head. Rather fortunate, I'd say."

"I'd call it odd. I don't know if you've noticed, Luke, but every time that we've faced trouble, we've gotten away without a scratch."

"I didn't."

"Didn't what?"

"Get away without a scratch. Good thing that there was that gun shop along the way, but I didn't get away that easily," he said, lifting his pant leg. Right below his knee, there was a red hole- a gunshot wound.

"You were shot and you didn't make a sound? Your pain tolerance must be through the roof, kid."

"It's only going to get higher."

"What makes you say that?"

"Things aren't over yet." We burst through the door of the archives, hoping everything would be intact. I slammed the door shut behind me.

"Luke, is there anything I can use to bar the door?"

He spotted a broom and handed it to me. "Here, Mom."

I took it and slid it through the door handles. "Done. Now that that's taken care of, roll up that pant leg. I'm going to see if I can get that bullet out."

"Okay," Luke whimpered. "It hurts, Mom." Then he began to cry. "It hurts a lot."

"I understand, honey. Lay down, I'll take care of it." Luke did as he was told, then I began to clean the wound. Just a word of advice- don't do what I do. "Mom, your tongue feels weird. It tickles."

"Well, it's-," I spat- "what I have. I want to save your life, and I don't have any water or cloths. I do, however, have my tongue and saliva. It's certainly not the greatest solution, but I do what I can with what I have." I bent back over and started again. When I was done, Luke's leg was all cleaned up- thank goodness that it had been a clean shot and wasn't bleeding.

"Now, let's get that bullet out," I said, reaching over his leg.

"Um...what are you going to use to get it out?"

"What I have- my fingers. This is going to hurt like the dickens, so you might want to get something to bite down on."

"I only have my tail."

"That might have to do."

"I really don't want to bite my tail though…"

"Would you rather have a scar on your tail or a leg? That's what I thought. Now take a breath, nice and deep. There you go. I'm going in now. Three, two, one…" I reached down into the hole, fished around a little, and came out with a bullet. "Okay, Luke, you can let go of your tail now."

"Yeeeeeeeeeeowwww! Ow, ow, ow, ow, ow, ow, ow! Thank you, thank you, thank you, and ow!"

"Now that that problem's solved, who's up for some research?"

* * *

The following is from an archived copy of the Zootopia Daily Sun, March 21, 1839

* * *

Meadowlands, Zootopia

Lupus Grayson, Reporter

Never before has a city been so joyous. All of Zootopia's citizens have been terrorized by the mafia, of this, there is little doubt. A mammal so accustomed to their presence such as myself would therefore find it impossible to believe that such an extensive crime network could be toppled in a day. What makes this extraordinary event even more surprising is the most unusual duo that toppled this underground crime network- a fox and a rabbit.

These mammals, who both claim to be city outsiders, say they were just passing through the area when they were pursued by a pair of robbers. While fleeing the thieves, they say they stepped into an abandoned building, without, so they say, any prior knowledge of its contents.

"All Zootopians know not to go in there," Millicent Loxley said when interviewed by yours truly. Millicent, a lifelong resident of Zootopia and longtime borough resident, explained to me the laws that were in place in regards to said building. When prompted about mafia activities, she displayed no understanding of what had gone on within the walls.

"Yes, I knew it was a city morgue- that's common knowledge around these parts. But as for it being a mafia headquarters, that wasn't something I knew, but I don't suppose it should surprise me, not with such close proximity to Happytown."

For those of you that wish to inform yourselves upon the subject of Happytown, I should hope that the following paragraph will suffice. Happytown, or Zootopia's Refuse Heap, as it is better known locally, is the poorest of the thirteen that compose Zootopia Proper. Being the poorest, it has the lowest income and highest crime rates. This area of the city is also entirely composed of predators, fueling interspecies violence. Wars in the streets are not uncommon, in fact, as Mrs. Loxley told me, "they are the residents of Happytown can rely on happening with any regularity, if at all."

In related news, the fox and rabbit duo that blew the case open are being called on for public service. In fact, the borough head resigned yesterday, stating, "Nicholas Wilde and Jack Savage will be able to perform the duties that Happytown required fulfilled to a capacity that is infinitely greater than my own." Faced with this situation, the duo graciously accepted. Their five-year terms as Borough Head and Assistant Borough Head, respectively, are set to begin tomorrow. This marks the first time in Zootopia's history that a mammal of either species has held public office.

* * *

"Hey, Mom?"

"Yes, Luke?"

"I found Dad and Jack!"

"What? Where?"

"When, and 1839."

"Well, that's a bit of a problem, wouldn't you say?"

"Agreed. So what are we going to do about it?"

"Keep on researching there, Luke. See if you can find anything about those bombs."

Fifty minutes later, he came back, panting.

"Any luck?" I asked him.

"A little," he replied. "Do you happen to know how to build a flux capacitor, perhaps?"

"A what?"

"A flux capacitor. Plutonium plus an eighty-eight mile per hour velocity, and bang! You have time travel!"

"How have I never heard of this before?"

"I don't know, but I know that the signature on the plans says Jack Savage."

"What? How is that possible? Jack isn't even alive at this point in history, so how could he be drafting plans for time travel? Especially from 1839?"

"Um, Mom?"

"Yes, Luke?"

"You said you felt something shift, right?"

"Yes, I did, why?"

"Why? Because, Mom, I have a sneaking suspicion that they're trying to get back to us."

"In that case, let's get building ourselves a flux capacitor. Luke, get the steel. Now where on earth are we going to get plutonium?"

"No clue, Mom. Let's find out, shall we?"


	11. Part 11: Chapter 21

I never asked for this. Not any of it. I didn't ask for my life, but it's the only one I have. Only now, I'm a police officer. Well, I was, back in my own time, but now I am again, only this time as Chief of Precinct Three.

But, as you might have noticed, this is 1839, not 2019. That's a bit of an issue in my mind. I've been trying to get home for months. No luck, seeing as I don't have plutonium. Yes, plutonium. I want to build myself a flux capacitor.

A flux capacitor? Isn't that what Mousy McFly used in Back To The Fur-ture? Yes, it is. I watched those movies when I was a kit, and I thought they were hilarious. I imagined sending myself back in time, maybe helping my dad's business and keeping it from going bankrupt. I thought it was wonderful, and I was oh, so disappointed when my mother told me that such a thing was impossible.

But no, Jack told me. They are real, he knew the wolf who had invented them. They had been inspired by the movie, so the way they worked was exactly like the movie, eighty-eight mile-per-hour activation and plutonium power and all.

To get me out of here, it's going to take some math. E=mc2, that's the equation. Jack figured out that it will take 1.21 gigawatts of power to get us going, and we have neither plutonium nor the time to go find it. I know how to build a crude battery that'll hold about as much energy as an AA, so forget that equation.

1.21 gigawatts, and I think that the waterfall nearby should help. Zootopia was just experiencing its first widespread usage of electric power, and they built crude generators by the river at the bottom of the falls.

Judy loves to share random facts with me, and one of those facts was that those generators produced six volts a second, and half that power was diverted back to the station. At that rate, the station will produce nine watts a second. 1.21 gigawatts / (9 * just over thirty-one million seconds a year)...at that rate, it'll take me thirty-five years to get out of here, and that's not including the time it will take to produce the batteries.

There has to be a better way to do this….

* * *

November 30, 1929

"Mom?"

"Yes, Luke?"

"Can rabbits fly?"

"No, why….?"

"Apparently Jack thought he could. Looks like he got pretty close, too. Look."

I did, and here's what I saw:

* * *

The following is from an archived copy of the Zootopia Daily Sun, November 10, 1839

* * *

Savanna Central, Zootopia

Caroline Wilde, Reporter

A reporter, when on the job, attempts to remain as professional as possible. However, when a rabbit with a pair of wings strapped to its arms jumps off of a five-story building, it's certainly difficult.

Witness accounts all describe a white rabbit with black markings shouting "2019, here I come!" then jumping off the building. He flew for about three seconds, then fell straight down, landing directly on his face. A doctor was called and came to inspect the victim, who was discovered alive but in a critical condition. The victim, whose

name is not yet known, is currently in treatment at Johns Hoppkins.

* * *

"He's one crazy rabbit, I'll give him that. Ambitious, too. I admire his efforts, I really do, I'd just like to see him get back alive, you know?"

"I do too, Judy. How's the planning going?"

"Well, I don't know what we're going to do for an explosive, but I've found enough sheet steel to start forming, only there's a bit of a problem- we don't have a form or forge."

"Let's worry about that in a little bit. As for an explosive, baking soda and vinegar will do, right?"

"Just where are we going to get those?"

"I was hoping we'd get to do a little cooking."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Tenderpaw Scout, remember? Always be prepared. That, and Nick robbed a wine shop. He was hoping to get around to drinking the stuff, but with a miniature armageddon going on, he never got the chance."

A little lightbulb went off inside my head. "And fermented wine is vinegar! Clever, clever fox!"

"I got it from you, Mom."

"Aww, thanks," I said, blushing.

"Mom, can you not gush like that? You're embarrassing me!"

"One more question. Where did you get the baking soda?"

"You know, it's a bit of a funny story."

"Do tell, Luke. I've all the time in the world."

"Well, for my fourth grade science fair, I built a baking soda volcano…"

* * *

December 11, 2016

1955 Cypress Grove Lane

6:30 AM

* * *

"Dad? Hey, Dad?"

"Zzzz….wha? What is it?"

"DAD! Wake! Up!"

"I'm up! I'm up! Don't shoot!"

"Dad, my science fair project is due tomorrow! Mrs. Shorttail is going to kill me it I don't turn anything in!"

"So, Luke, since you're so wound up about this, I take it you're worried."

"Well, why wouldn't I be? I'll flunk, I know it!"

"No, you won't, Luke, calm down. What do you want to make?"

"A baking soda volcano! What else?"

"So what's the problem?"

"Take a guess, Dad."

"You don't have anything done. Why not?"

"We're out of baking soda! That's the most important part!"

"I'll go get some, alright?"

 

~20 Minutes Later~

 

"Is this enough baking soda?"

"Dad, goodness gracious, did you buy the store's whole supply?"

"Why, yes, yes I did. I bought a few gallons of vinegar too."

"So anyways, Judy, we had enough baking soda and vinegar for several hundred volcanoes. Dad wanted to test out a few- in the kitchen, of course. The foam flooded the sink and poured all over the floor, but when I finally got everything all right, I was so happy. Then, when I took it to school, my teacher gave me a 100. I was the happiest little kit. Then, when I got home, Dad dropped a bomb on me- we were going to lose our house. The happiest fox kit was then the saddest fox kit, and he only got sadder when they had to go live on the streets.

"Dad has a master's degree in criminal justice, but no one would hire him, not even the local courts. I guess they didn't want a fox as a judge. Everything began to change, however, when he stumbled into his best friend again on the streets- as a Precinct One cop, no less. When we visited you every week, you told Dad you were working on a degree, but he had no idea you were planning to become a cop."

"How could I not have? It's been my dream for as long as I can remember." Then I reached up to my cheek, where Gideon's claws had scarred me- there was nothing.

How...Oh, great. Let me guess- in Luke's version of history, Gideon never scratched me. That was really what convinced me to become a cop, I guess, that prejudiced attitude of his just drove me further.

But how would that change in the timeline affect mine? I may have had new memories, but there's never been any physical changes.

"I bet you just forgot. Anyways, back on the baking soda topic- as soon as Dad told me we were losing our house, I ran inside and grabbed a box of baking soda and some vinegar- somewhat as a memento, I suppose. I carried them with me everywhere, but I never used them. I suppose now's the time, though."

"Just where are we going to set this up?

"Head to the basement, Mom, there's more than enough room down there."

* * *

November 17, 1839

Zootopia General Hospital

Hospital care in the twenty-first century is vastly superior to that of the nineteenth, that much is obvious. My plans were already off the rails when Jack decided to go flying. So now, instead of getting back home, to 2019, to Luke and Judy, I'm stuck here, caring for a buck without enough brains to check the wind before he jumped.

The doctors say he'll live, but with ten broken ribs, as well as both arms and legs broken, they say he could be here for months. They're doing all they can, and they have him somewhat stable. I can just hope he pulls through. As for the return to my own time, I'll see what I can do about commandeering a train. That'll be... difficult, to say the least. I can only hope that they'll get to me, even if I can't get to them.

In unrelated news, I have a new case.

* * *

December 1, 1929

"For goodness' sake, Nick, would you quit messing up the past?"

"How is cursing at him going to help anyone? Especially if he can't hear you?"

"It helps me feel better. And I wasn't cursing, Luke."

"Whatever. Can we find ourselves some actual beds? I'm getting sick of sleeping on cold marble. It makes my tail cramp up."

"Can we solve the predicament we're in first before we worry about sleeping on beds?"

"Fi-," I began, but a pounding on the door cut me off.

"Attention any and all occupants! This is the ZGB! Open the doors immediately, or we'll open them for you!"

I turned to Luke and said, "Hey, Luke? You have that system all set up?"

"Y-yes...why?" he asked.

"We're going to need it, stat!"

"We're coming in!"

"Run, Luke, run!"

We ran to the basement, making sure to leave a trail of debris as we went. We ran down the stairs, reaching our contraption barely ten seconds before our pursuers did. I slammed the capsule's door shut and latched it, just as a wolf reached us.

"You in there! Come out, or we'll shoot!"

"I don't think so!"

Over the last month, Luke and I had been salvaging scrap steel to build ourselves a quasi-rocket. We had been hoping to use it to escape 1929, but it looked like we were going to use it to escape our deaths first.

"Luke, how do you launch this thing?" I screamed.

"Like this!" he said, stomping on a pad beneath his feet. I felt the ground beneath us begin to shake, then I was knocked to the floor.

"We couldn't have had enough baking soda or vinegar, can we?"

"We didn't."

"Then how the heck? Whoa, whoa, whoa!"

"This party's going through the roof! Wha-hoo!"

"Luke! What is this thing flying on?"

Crunch!

"Well, there goes the ceiling." Then came another sickening crunch. "And the roof."

"Luke, you still haven't told me. What are we flying on?"

"Vinegar and sawdust."

"You're crazy, you know that?"

"Yes, and I also know that we're getting out of the city!"

"Just how high are we?"

"I don't know, and I don't think that I want to right about now."

"Let's just hope we hit escape velocity."

"I'm just hoping we don't die."

But what goes up must come down. In a freefall, in our case.

"Why can't things just be easy for a change?"

"Because that's not life. Speaking of that, I have a feeling ours are about to end. Can I have a hug, Mom?"

"Yes, Luke. Yes, you can." I reached out to grab him in my arms, then came a sickening, ear-splitting crack, then blackness.

* * *

19XX, Location Unknown

* * *

"You suppose they're alright, John?"

"We'll see, Marian. We'll see in the morning."

"How on Earth did they get that thing to fly? It has to be heavier than a ton."

"A better question would be how they got it into a tree."

"I think that might be self-explanatory, John."

"Mama! Papa! A rocket!"

"I know, Nicky. Just hang out inside, okay?"

"But I want to see it!"

"Nicholas Wilde, get back inside this instant!"

"Call the police about this, would you, John?"

'I'll call them right now."

"Hello, police? I'm calling to report an incident…"

"Please give us a description, as well as your address."

"There's a rocket in my backyard."

"Your address?"

"1955 Cypress Grove Lane."

"We'll be there soon, sir. Just stay calm and stay on the the line."


	12. Part 12: Chapter 22

"Ugh, where are we? I have the worst headache…"

"Mama, Papa, they're awake, they're awake!"

I opened my eyes slowly, not sure of what I would find. Three foxes? Nope, not at all what I was expecting.

"Who…? Where am I? How did I get here?"

"That's a question you should be asking yourself, sweetheart, not me. Don't ask me how that thing even got off the ground, let alone into our tree there, darling."

"My head hurts so badly." I sat up slowly, feeling things pull and stretch for the first time in who knew how long. "How long was I out? What the hey happened? My head..."

"You and your fox friend came flying out of nowhere about a week back and crash landed in the elm out back. You looked pretty beat up, I have to say- your arm was pretty badly twisted around, and you can bet your life on the fact that you're concussed."

"That would explain why I feel drunk." Then I thought of Luke. "There was a fox in that rocket with me. Please, tell me he's all okay! He's my son!"

"Your son, sweetheart? You know, he's a fox, right. Aside from that, interspecies marriage isn't legal here."

"Sure it is- that fox is Luke Wilde, he's my son. Nick Wilde- my husband- is his father."

"That's not possible. This here is Nicholas Wilde, and he's only seven, so what are you doing claiming he's your husband?"

By that time, the commotion had woken Nick- Nick? What was he doing here? How the hey?

He sat up slowly, dazed. "Where the hey?" Then he turned and saw me, talking with two foxes. "Mom? Dad?"

"What the? Who are you? You're not my son."

"Let me explain, please. Try to keep your minds open to what I tell you, and please, please, please do not speak until I'm done. This is going to sound crazy, but I swear to Karma, it's the truth. Please."

"What do you say, John? Give him a chance?"

"Humph. I don't trust him, but what's it going to hurt?"

"So, yes, then?"

"Yes, fine."

"Alright, here's the rundown. Just for starters, do either of you actually believe me? Marian? John?"

"How do you know our names?" John cried, incredulous.

"If you would just hang on a second, I'm getting there. Anyways, this is 1955 Cypress Grove Lane, and based on the "Happy 7th Birthday" banners I see, this is March fifteenth, 1991. Which makes it- you guessed it- Nick Wilde's seventh birthday. At exactly three on this afternoon, his mother will bring him into the kitchen and sit him down at the table. She will then open the fridge and take out a small vanilla cupcake- his favorite. No candles, though, we couldn't- can't- afford them."

"Anyways, his father, who was- is- the proprietor of Wilde Style, a tailoring business (which is slowly but steadily sliding into the red- which his wife knows, but can't do anything about) comes into the kitchen right after, and they both sing him Happy Birthday. That birthday is the last happy moment that he will remember for years. Unbeknownst to him, within the next few years, his father's business will go bankrupt, forcing the entire family out on the streets.

That happy kit that his parents knew will become one rebellious teenager, running away and abandoning his family, eventually becoming a small-time con artist and hustler. He does this for almost twenty years- that's right, until he's thirty-two. His whole world will be flipped upside down when Judith Hopps comes bouncing on in, threatening to send him to jail for felony tax evasion. Anyways, it just so happens that she has a condition- he helps her out with her case, he'll go free.

Only there's a slight catch- this so-called "Missing Mammals Case", or the "Night Howler Incident," as you'll hear it referred to nowadays, wasn't just a simple case of mammals wandering off into the woods and getting lost. No, it was the Assistant Mayor, a sheep by the name of Dawn Bellwether, that was darting predators with an extract that would cause them to go back to their primal instincts. When that case was blown open, the Mayor, Leodore Lionheart, was sent to jail, along with Miss Bellwether, who, after Lionheart got canned, took over as Mayor herself.

As for the fox, he started to fall for the bunny, the first of her kind to make it as a Zootopian police officer. When Precinct One's Chief Bogo heard about this fox who helped blow the case, he couldn't believe it- a sleazy, lowlife, con artist fox?

Well, he passed the Academy, and thanks to his efforts in cracking the case, the new Mayor pardoned his back taxes."

"Wait just a minute, Nick," I whispered. "How on Earth did you get here, because, last I knew, you were in 1839?"

"Once again, Judy, I have no clue. I went to sleep last night, and I woke up in the living room." Then he turned back to his family.

"Sorry about that- I just had to answer her question. Anyways, to get back to the topic at hand- that fox subsequently became the first of his kind to become a police officer- the rabbit's partner. Only now, his version of Zootopia is a living hellhole, and there's a sheep by the name of Dawn Bellwether causing one heck of a mess."

"Then- If I understand this correctly- you expect me to believe that you're our son, who, based on the gray on the end of your ears and muzzle- is middle-aged?"

"That's right, yes."

"Are you crazy?"

"Yes, I think I am. What do you say?"

"I say you're nuts."

"I believe him, Mommy," little Nick piped up.

"You do, Nicky?"

"As I said, yes."

"Why, Nick?" John asked. "I sure don't."

"Let me ask him a few questions, John. Questions that only our son would know the answer to," Marian said.

"Of course, dear."

"Okay. Nick?"

"Yes, Mommy?"

"No, not you, honey. The older Nick."

"Yes, Mom?"

"When did we get married?"

"November 17, 1972. You were both eighteen."

"How much did Nick weigh when he was born?"

"Three pounds, seven ounces."

"Why did we name him Nicholas?"

"Nych O'Lastin- he founded the city, he was also your great-great-great grandfather. You wanted to honor him."

Marian's jaw dropped. "You're right on all three counts."

"I should be, I think, I grew up with you two."

"Say that, based on the fact that you just gave us information that only our son would know, we decided to believe you," John said. "Could you possibly explain yourself?"

"I'd love to, yes. But first, do you believe me? Be honest, Honest John."

"Y-y-yes," he stammered. "B-B-But how?"

"I think it's neat," little Nick said. "I get to see what I'll be like when I'm an adult."

"Believe me, Nick, you don't want my life."

"I don't get it. Your life is my life, and the other way around, too, so why wouldn't I?"

"You won't believe me, I bet. You're such a good kit. I'm not. I bet you want to join the Junior Ranger Scouts, don't you?"

"Yes, I do!" he said, bouncing up and down. "I'll be the first fox in the pack. I can't wait!"

"Let me let you in on a little secret, okay? If you go to that meeting, those kids are going to shove a muzzle on you. But that won't be all, unfortunately. They'll shove an electric collar on you too."

"Why? I'm a good mammal. I'm a good fox! Why would they do that?" Then he started sobbing.

"'You think we would ever trust a fox without a muzzle?' That's what they told me." Nick looked up at his parents, his eyes filled with tears. "I didn't do anything to them, but that day, that innocent kit died inside. The shell that was left, well, he's talking to you. I have been the epitome of the fox stereotype for years, but Judy, well, she showed me that mammals can change. The day I met her, I felt something inside that I had long forgotten- love."

"She showed me love for the first time in decades, and I found that I, a fox, could love her back. You've heard Judy's part of the story, but that's mine. So do me a favor, Nick. Don't let me ever be this fox. Don't go to that meeting, I beg you, and stay in school. Oh, and when you meet a cute rabbit in college, ask her out for me, okay? Can you do that?"

"But I don't like girls! They're yucky!"

"That'll change, Nick. You'll change, I'll change, and you'll find happiness, I promise." Then he turned back to his parents. "Did you find another fox and rabbit, perhaps?"

"As a matter of fact, we did. But I'm still having a hard time reconciling the fact that I'm chatting with a version of my son who is older than I am."

"And I'm talking to my parents, whom I haven't seen in decades. That, and my seven-year-old self."

"What an interesting new normal, huh?"

"My head hurts...What happened?"

"We were wondering when you were going to wake up there, little one. Sleep well?"

"No, Dad, I feel like I got hit by a truck."

"You crashed into a tree."

"How long have I been out?"

"A day. We were all hoping you'd wake up."

"Well, I'm awake, and I have the worst headache…"

"A concussion will do that to you, Luke."

"When are we?"

"My seventh birthday- March fifteenth, 1991."

"How in the world?"

"That's the question we've all been asking ourselves, Luke, and yet again, we don't know."

"'I don't know' seems to me to be an awfully common answer. Oh, Karma, my head!"

"Lay down, Luke. I don't know what you think you're doing up."

"I think that I just crash landed in a tree and got knocked out for a week, only to end up a century and a half in the future. All of that's a bit much to take in right about now, and the pounding behind my eyeballs-Ow!" He clutched his temples. "Get it to go away, please!"

"If you'd just laid down, Luke, we wouldn't have this problem. Come on, follow me into the kitchen. I understand that you're hurt, but if you can stay on your paws for thirty seconds, there's a couch you can lay down on."

"Ow-okay."

I've never had a concussion before, and so I feel awful, which is probably about the largest possible understatement. My head is pounding- ka-thump, ka-thump every second. The broken arm doesn't help, either. In fact, the one thought that I can keep in my head goes something like this: Ow-ow-ow-ow-ow. I don't know how I'm on my paws right now, but I do know that I just want to go home. I miss it, that city where everyone could live in relative peace and safety.

Look, there's the couch. Great. I just drop, my paws coming out from under me.

"Here's the little trooper," Mom says. "How are you doing, honey?"

"Horrible. Please don't be offended, but just leave me alone right now. I feel horrible."

"Is this Luke?"

"Yes, it is."

"Oh, Nick, he looks just like you."

"He's adorable, honey."

Aww, she likes me. Then, nothing.

"Ugh, what happened?"

"You passed right out there, Luke. You've been tossing and turning for hours."

"I feel a little better, but my head's still giving me one heck of a time. Can you help us out here? Help us get back home?"

"Could I come with you?" little Nick asked.

"That's not up to me, Dad."

"Dad?"

I smiled and ruffled his fur. "Yes, little guy. You're my Dad, and I love you so much."

"I want to come with you. I want to see what my future is like."

"I don't know if that's possible, Dad. What if it makes more of a mess?"

"I'm willing to take that chance. Didn't you say it's already a mess? Will it really hurt to bring us along?"

"Ask your parents. I don't know if it can be done, warping the timeline like that. When we've hopped through the eras, we've never taken anyone out of their own time. Ripping the timeline's one thing. Entirely destroying it, that's a whole new game. Marian? John? Are you both on board here?"

"I can't say it's not tempting, Luke. Oh, and call us Mum and Pop, would you? We're not quite that old; to be called just by our first names. Do you know what we'd be getting into?"

"Not quite, Mum. I don't know what's going to happen, as much as I'd like to."

"So, to take a family vote- who's along for the journey, no matter what it may bring? Raise your paws."

"I'm in."

"I'm in."

"Me too!"

"Okay, that's the version one Wildes. Version two?"

We're family. We stick together," Mom said.

"Your mom's always right, we all know that."

"Okay, that's everyone."

"Except for me. Don't forget poor little Jack."

We all turned towards the spare bedroom door. "Oh, Jack, you're awake!"

"Awake and with the world's worst headache." Then he cracked a grin. "What were you guys doing making plans without me?"

"You should have woken up sooner, Jack. We were wondering how best to not end the world, all while taking mammals out of the timeline."

"Oh, this should be interesting. I can't wait! So, when's the liftoff?"


	13. Part 13: Chapter 23

"I don't know how we'll manage it, but I'm sure we'll find a way."

"I certainly hope so."

"I can't wait! I can't wait!"

"Whoa, there, Nicky. Calm down for just a second, would you? Geez, you have so much energy!"

"Calm down? No!" he said, bouncing up and down.

"And why not? You're going to wear yourself out, and I'm getting dizzy just watching you."

"I get to escape! I get to run away from this city! I get to skip a few decades, and who wouldn't be excited about that?"

"Do you really know what you're getting yourself into? I mean, it's not as if you'll return to this utopian city. 2019 Zootopia has been burnt to the ground, and there's a crazy sheep on the rampage."

"I know that, and as you likely already know, I have a knack for getting out of trouble rather quickly."

"Right, but you do realize that we'll be ripping the timeline here? What if you get hurt? I don't know if that'll affect the older version of you."

"For everyone's sake, I sure hope not," Nick said. "I want to live my life, not have it cut short because of someone's foolishness."

"Here's a test," Jack said. "Marian, can you find a pin?"

"What for?"

"I'd like little Nick to prick his paw. If the older Nick doesn't feel it, well then, we know that they're not tied to each other."

"I hate pointy things. Don't make me, please."

Marian found a pin, and handed it to Jack.

"Nick, this is really important. Please, just hold out your paw."

"But I don't want to," he whined.

"Fine, then. I won't make you. But be warned, if you get hurt, it could affect the future." Then he turned to me and whispered, "Distract him, please."

"Can do," I whispered back. "Hey, Nick, what's your favorite movie?"

"Back To The Fur- Yow! I told you, don't do that!"

"I'm sorry, buddy, but it was important. I swear on my life that I won't do it again," Jack said.

"You swear?" he asked, looking at Jack and I with slit eyes, arms crossed over his chest. "If this is a trick, you'll regret it."

"I think I'm starting to see where Luke gets his fierceness from. No, it's not a trick. Nick, did you feel that?"

"Not a thing," he replied. "Well, that's a relief, I suppose. If he gets hurt, then I won't."

"Well, it's not a relief to me!" little Nick cried. "You lied to me and you stuck a pin in my paw! You're worse than a fox!"

Jack recoiled, shock evident on his face. "Whoa there, little guy. Who are you calling worse than a fox?"

"You!"

"Calm down, Nicky," John said. "You do realize how serious of an insult that is, right?"

"I do, and I don't care!"

"Look, I hate liars too, but I'm going to have to side with this rabbit-"

"Jack."

"-Jack here. It you were to get hurt, that could rip time apart. That would very likely end the world. That's not something you want, right? The world ending because a selfish kit didn't want to see whether or not his actions would have an effect on the future? You realize that you were just talking to your adult self, right? How old are you, Nick? The older Nick, I mean."

"Thirty-five. That's twenty-eight more than you, Nicky."

"You're almost as old as Dad is!"

"I know," John said, "which is why, my son, that you should listen to Jack here. And, as I've said to you time and time again, take your own advice, so quit interrupting and start listening. Got it?"

"Yes, Dad," little Nick said, his ears flattened against his head. "Sorry."

"It's alright, little one."

"Don't call me little!"

"Fine. But what did I just tell you?"

"To be quiet and start listening. Yes, Dad."

"Okay," Jack said. "To pick up where I left off, Nicky, I hate tricking people, I hate liars. But it was important, okay?"

"It's alright, Jack," little Nick said. "I forgive you."

"How can you do that so quickly? I sure as hey can't."

"My parents taught me to never hold a grudge. Though based on what I've told myself, I have a feeling that if you guys hadn't shown up, that would be changing rather soon. But it hasn't happened yet, it won't now, and I forgive you. But as you've seen, I have a penchant for being sarcastic."

"Yes, I have, and you talk like you're seventeen, rather than seven. I don't remember Nick ever being like this. I don't suppose that's exactly a positive sign if things are changing so quickly."

"In that case, we'd better hurry up, shouldn't we?"

Zootopia, 2020

New Year's Day

"No sign of them, Mayor."

"Well, that's a wonderful thing to hear, Mister Ramses. It means those pestilent mammals are out of my way, hopefully six feet under. Anyways, time to move forward with Project Firefox. We've lost our firefox, but I have another plan, and I can guarantee that it will never fail."

"You sound exactly like a mad scientist right about now, Mayor."

"Do you want to be a sheepskin rug? Hmm, I didn't think so. That pain in the tail Wilde- I have no idea when he is, and I can't catch him here. Anyways, as I was saying…"

"Wh-what is Project Firefox, Mayor?"

"Haven't you been listening at all, you indolent ten-watt buffoon? It's all I've been ranting about for the last month! Oh, looks like I am crazy, I just admitted that I was ranting. But since you obviously haven't been paying a drop of attention, I'll go through it again. What would that make this, the tenth time I've told you this?

"Anyways, here's the rundown. Do you know what time is, Mister Ramses?"

"I don't think I get your drift, Mayor."

"I wasn't expecting that you would. Most, if not all mammals believe that time is solid, impenetrable, and most of all, only traversable in one direction. Oh, they could not be more wrong! Our Precinct One duo of Hopps and Wilde are living, breathing testaments to that. You know, I heard that all of this started out rather simply- Wilde just wanted some vacation days, and he was determined to get them by whatever means possible. Well, slip some real bullets in for the blanks, bribe a few guards, and they're out of the way for good, or at least I had hoped. No such luck, Mister Ramses.

Anyways, I put a tracker in the youngest one, whatever his name is. I know where they are, just not when they are. So, where'd that darned rabbit leave his bombs?"

Okay, so here's a bit of a catch-me-up. We don't know what we're doing. My fifteenth birthday's come and gone- yes, it's been almost two years, so it's now 1993. Dad's now nine as well as forty, Mom's thirty-two, and I have a little sister on the way. Mom and Dad have agreed on the name- Holly. Holly Marian Wilde. Adorable, I have to say. Looks like there'll be another fox in the Wilde family. Now, if only we could get out of here. If you'll remember, Zootopia's a Sowviet territory right about now, and we won't regain our independence for another six years, but I wonder if they could stand another fighter. I'm taller than Dad, about 3' 6", which is incredibly tall for a fox, and I haven't even hit my growth spurt.

Anyways, those extra few inches make me quite the odd one out. I go for walks every morning for the exercise, and everywhere I go, I see heads turn in my direction. I've overheard a few mammals whispering about me, mumbling about how tall I am. I know it's rude, but I don't take any offense. What's the point, anyways? If I were to call them out on it, well, I'm a fox, so who do you think they're going to believe? In their eyes, I'm just a shifty, good-for-nothing fox. So what am I supposed to do? Ignore them and keep on walking, that's what.

As we're somewhat stuck here, Mom and Dad have decided to send me off to school. It's not as if I haven't gone, it's just that it's a bit odd, going to the same school as your dad and being older than he is- I'm in ninth grade, Dad's in fourth. In the 'normal' timeline, Dad would have flunked out by now, but with me at home helping him out, he's stayed in school, and so far, he's at the top of the class. In a few years, an optimistic rabbit by the name of Judy Hopps will transfer into the district, or at least, so I hope. I'm a science nut at heart, having two parents who took forensics in college sparked that.

But back to the topic at hand- since we're here, why not introduce them earlier? How about encouraging the Hopps family to send Judy out this way for school? Sounds great, at least on paper. Not to degrade the Hopps family in any way, but they're horribly stereotyped. Spraying a fox in the face with pepper spray when their daughter brings him home? Hah! Oh, and, following the trend of "Nothing makes any sense," yes, for the record, I know who- and what- I am. A freak, an anomaly, the creation of a desperate fox not bothering to look where he was going. In short, a genetic experiment, a clone of my father. That doesn't make me less of a fox, it doesn't mean that I don't have a history.

In real time, I'm just over three. In my time, this fox is fifteen. Fifteen, in the height of adolescence, and really hating the hormone swings. I'll be as bright as the sun one minute, the next, I'll be broody, and there's nothing I can do to stop it. Also, there's this annoying tendency that seems to come with the territory- anytime I'm off, my ears start twitching, just like little radar dishes. It's awfully embarrassing, especially when my girlfriend's over for dinner.

Girlfriend? Yes, a girlfriend. Her name is Electra, and she's just a month younger than me. The question has come up (not in front of her, of course) of where our relationship will go when, and if, we manage to return to our own time. I, myself, am a proponent of bringing her with us upon our egress from the nineties. That, however, is not my call to make. She's never left the city, so who knows, really? I'm not supposed to be here, none of us are, and I feel it every day. I'm waiting to go home- I can't wait, and yet at the same time, I don't want to leave. That, and I don't want to face what I know is coming. It's inevitable, I suppose, but a fox can hope, right?

2020, City Center

A perfect location, I know it. Wilde's going down at last, I can feel it. Savage was always rather hare-brained, pun not intended. Hare-brained as he was, it just so happens that he left his time bomb diagrams in the archives. Maybe it was an accident, only Karma knows, but now this sheep has the upper hand.

Doug told me that I seemed exactly like a mad scientist earlier today. Granted, it was meant as an insult, but I am crazy, this is true. Systems proceed towards greater entropy, this is true, so why can't society?

Aside from that, can't a sheep have a little happiness in her life, after all she's gone through? Everyone wants to turn back time for one reason or another, so it would follow that I have my own, which I do. What is it? Well, you see, when your parents are killed by foxes, foxes who just so happened to be related to the Wildes, what sane mammal wouldn't want to exact revenge? I know I would.

Well, that opportunity presented itself in the form of one dumb bunny. Thank you, Mister Savage, for blowing the timeline open. I love you, Mama, Papa. I'll see you soon.

Always yours, Dawn


	14. Part 14: Chapter 24

"Luke, sweetie, why are you moping?"

"I don't know how to explain it to you, Electra, I just don't. That, and I'm out of time."

"What do you mean, you're out of time? You look plenty healthy to me."

"Not in that way. I mean, oh, you're not going to believe me, so what's the point."

"Try me, you never know. I have a pretty large capacity for imagination."

"I know, I've seen it in action. You wanted an explanation? Here it is. I'm not from here. I mean, I'm from Zootopia, but this is over two decades before I'm born."

She looked at me, shock and bewilderment both vying for dominance on her face. "I-I don't get get it," she stammered. "Luke, sweetheart, are you alright? Did you hit your head or something?"

"No," I sighed. "I'm perfectly fine. It's just that I don't want to be here anymore."

"Are you breaking up with me?" She started to cry.

"Oh, no, no, no, goodness no, nothing like that. See, I told you that you wouldn't believe me." I looked up, and she was still crying. "Here, do you need a hug?"

"Yes, I think that's exactly what I need. Now, please, what were you saying?"

"I'll tell you if you'll stop crying. There's nothing to worry about, at least, not here. But there is if you decide to come with us."

"Come with you where? You still haven't told me that," she said, crossing her arms over her chest. "You've ten seconds to start talking, or I am going to be one teed-off vixen, and I can assure you, you do not want that. Five, four, three…"

"What happened to the other five?"

"Oh, whoopsie, did I forget to mention that the ten seconds started then? Sorry!"

"Look," I sighed. "I've tried to explain what happened before, but you haven't believed me. But I'll tell you again, and please, please, please try and imagine this, that what I'm telling you is true, okay? Please?"

"I'll try, I promise. But don't expect a lot, got it?"

"Okay, then. Here it goes…"

I'm not an ordinary fox, you've probably realized that by now. If you've seen my father and I together, you've seen how we look so much alike. Identical, except for the fur color swap. That, and the eyes. Anyways, would you believe it if I told you I wasn't born until 2019, except, as you can see, this is 1993. Add to the fact that it's 2021 in my world, and you may very well think that I warrant commitment to the looney bin.

While that may very well be true, Electra, I'm telling the truth. There's a heck of an odyssey ahead, and I'm hoping that you'll see me through it. Dang, now I sound like a sap. Well, that's what puberty does to you. It makes your hormones crazy. Anyways, what if I told you that I'm not fifteen, I'm three. No, I didn't think you'd believe me, just pick your jaw up off the floor.

Yes, I'm three, but at the same time, I'm fifteen, and I'm not trapped inside my head or trapped in an older fox, which is impossible. Well, not anymore. The world I come from (Goodness, I sound like I'm some alien.) is lorded over by a psychopathic sheep who's hell-bent on destroying it.

Well, now that I think about it, she's not so hell-bent on destroying it anymore, seeing as she's already done that, and it's somewhat my fault. You see, this wasn't meant to be anything more that my father's ploy to gain a few vacation days. In 2016, he was a police officer, along with my mom, and the chief of their precinct, a bull by the name of Idris Bogo, absolutely refused to give any vacation days, even though officers were allotted two weeks a year for personal use. Well, my dad, he just got sick of having to report every single day, no matter whether he was capable or not. You have a cold? Bah! I've had swine flu, plus a fever of 101, and I still reported in! So, a day off for a cold? Denied! Just got married and want to take a honeymoon? Sorry, no can do.

My dad got more and more and more fed up with Bogo every day, though he didn't let on. But in his head, he was concocting a scheme to wile his way his way out of a few days of work, and he planned to bring my mom into his plan with him, but he didn't tell her anything. But he was scheming, oh was he. He may not come across as a bookworm, but he is, and as a criminal justice major, he'd also minored in law- that's where the bookworm part comes into play.

While he was in college, he read every single law book that the university library had to offer, and he memorized every single one, too, so he knew every Zootopian law backwards and forwards, and, as comes with total understanding of a subject, he knew all the loopholes in them, too, it's how he didn't get arrested during his years on the street.

Anyways, he remembered that there was some arcane, yet still active law that harkened back to the days where Zootopia was frontier territory, and policemen were apt to get shot in duels, so there was this law that stipulated that if a lawman had been shot four times, he got a month off to recover. Odd law, I suppose. Four times? But heck, my dad knew about it and was determined to exploit it. The only thing remaining was to provide the gunshots, and there we go! Vacation! 

Only Dad didn't think to actually inspect the bullets that his actors would be using. Oh, well, I suppose, because it means I'm around. There's a golden lining to everything. In this case, the golden lining was a golden fox; you already know who he is, he's talking to you.

Well, my dad got his vacation days, only to be shot for real. That's the problem, I suppose, with not keeping a close enough eye on your prisoners...they escape. Bellwether [that's the psycho sheep that got us into this mess to begin with], she was sent to jail, but she's a crafty ewe, oh, is she. I have no idea just how she got into politics, seeing as she has a master's degree in electrical engineering with a minor in computer science; an odd pairing, but it certainly came in handy when they locked her away.

Prisoners who display model behavior are granted computer privileges, and who's going to think a small little lamb could cause any trouble on a computer? Obviously not the wardens, that's for darn sure. They let her on a computer, and ten minutes later, voila! She had hacked the system; then disabled every single security measure in the compound, all under the guard's noses.

Under their noses? You bet your britches, under their noses. She's a devil, but a crafty devil if I've ever seen one. She coded a virus into the system that, when it brought the prison down, left the guards' quarters still electrified so that the guards had no clue that they were under siege. So yes, she escaped, Electra, she escaped and came traipsing on into the prison run by Jack Savage. He knew she was there, she actually had signed on as a computer technician, but only after having a wool dye job done. Add to that some colored contacts and some bribes on the side, and she was in.

Savage is a harebrain, pun absolutely intended. He's served in the ZIA's ranks for twenty-odd years; he was hired right out of high school and rose up on through the ranks like lightning. He's smart and well-trained, though, but obviously not in the art of disguise. Bellwether bided her time, wondering how best to ensnare the government in her web. Well, the security bunkers beneath the city are under his domain, and at Bellwether's urging, Judy Hopps and Nick Wilde were evacuated to the bunker beneath Tundratown and left there, so all that was left for her to do was get a bus ticket to go out there. Then, seeing as sheep are rather common in said area of Zootopia [I don't know why, but apparently they enjoy the cold.], she managed to blend in and reach the bunker unnoticed.

Once inside the bunker, she put her plan into action, even managing to coerce Dad's old 'business partner,' Finnick Zerda, into tagging along and helping her with her plan- the power of money, I suppose. Well, once she was in, there was no stopping her. Armed with some midnicampium holicithias pellets, she shot my father from across the room while hauling my mother with her, her other hand- hoof- holding a pistol to my mom's head, taunting my dad; calling on him to save my mom. When he moved to do so, she dropped my mom to the floor and shot my dad. The next thing he knew, he was in the hospital, and what do you know, a criminal, or so he was told. The hospital staff said that he had mauled a rabbit by the name of Allison Longear after he, Chase Blacktip, supposedly shot up on Night Howler, a toxic substance, a.k.a. ... midnicampium holicithias.

I can see you're wondering- yes, he's Nick Wilde, not Chase Blacktip, and Allison Longear was really Judy Hopps.

Thank you, Dawn! I love you lots! Karma only knows just how much. What of this convoluted misadventure isn't her fault? Nothing, absolutely nothing. Thanks to her screwing around, I'm in this mess, and I suppose I have to say thank you, because without her, I wouldn't be in existence. Don't worry, I'm getting there, Electra. Are you still with me?

Well, when my parents were just barely recovered enough to walk, they had collars clipped on them- shock collars, you've probably heard all about them in history class. After that, they were sent off to trial, my father for assault, attempted murder, and possession/use of a controlled substance; my mother for impersonation of a police officer. They were both convicted, my mother got forty years, my dad; sixty. Having regained city mayorship [albeit under an alias], Bellwether set in place a law that condemned prisoners with sentences in excess of forty years to death row, so you can guess where my dad went.

Night Howler has its perks, though- it's used by EMTs to resuscitate heart attack victims, just in a dilute form. Prisons get the strong stuff, though, just in case, so that's what they used on my dad-apparently, Savage had found him innocent after all! Well, he couldn't let the whole prison know that, so he locked my dad in the morgue. As part of all morgues, there is an autopsy lab adjoining it, but what was unusual about this one were the enormous glass cylinders that stood inside it. As my dad went closer to get a better look, he stumbled and fell over one of the power cords that were criss-crossing the floor and faceplanted against one of the control pads, and the next thing he knew, I was standing next to him, a thirteen-year-old fox clothed only in a towel. Goodness, it was cold in there.

So, with me in the picture, how did we get out? Strong paws and poison, that's how. Twist open a water pipe here, sprinkle in a little bit of this, a dash of that, and wait. The next day, Jack came to give us some food [or my dad food, really, he didn't know about me], and he decided, in a drugged stupor, to unlock the door to the morgue, and out we went- first stop, props department.

The prison allows inmates to stage shows every so often, so there were plenty of costumes to choose from, I chose a wolf costume, but also a t-shirt and some shorts- I couldn't just go around wearing a towel all the time, could I? I got dressed, then Dad and I slipped into the costume- Dad doing all the walking, me riding piggyback. Jack, then not chemically stunned, made up release documents to get us out- there was a kind spot in him after all, who would have thought? Dad gave the papers to the still brain-fogged guards, and out we went.

I don't know what either of us was expecting, maybe to return back to our normal lives, to reunite with Judy. Fate, however, had other plans. As soon as we walked out of those gates, thanking Karma that we'd escaped, Bellwether's goons closed in on us, and they caught us. Off we went to Sobiboar...those were the hardest months of my life- back-breaking labor all day, every day. Sobiboar was closed six months after we arrived, there weren't enough predator prisoners [or predators, for that matter] to sustain the camp, so off we went, back into the city, which had been bombed flat. No food, no water, just hot pavement. Hot pavement and-

"Luke!" my dad called, his voice shrill and urgent, tinged with just a little residual fear, which was something that I'd never heard in his voice before, and it frightened me.

"Luke, hurry, for Karma's sake! Your mom's in labor! Hurry!"


	15. Part 15: Chapter 25

Well, this just got interesting!

"But I thought the baby wasn't due for another month!" I cried. I'd been looking forward to this moment ever since my parents told me that I was going to be a big brother. "Now's not the time!"

"Yeah, sorry, bud, it looks like it is."

"What's going on?" Electra came racing after me, her eyes wide. Then they went wider as she turned to me. "Oh, sweet Karma, no! Not now! What's going to happen to the baby?"

"Great question, but I don't think-" Our conversation was cut off by a scream from inside.

"Oh, dear." Then came a thump from beside me. I looked down to see my dad unconscious at my feet. What a scaredy-cat. "Great, Dad. Any trouble and you're off scene. Well, time to have more red fur."

"Do you need me?"

"Yes, Electra, I think we will. Be careful, okay?"

"Be careful? What else am I going to be? Luke, do you even know how my parents died? A car crash. I spent hours doing CPR on them, begging them to wake up. I've had my share of red fur too. Now, you silly tod, your mother needs us." With that, she took off for the house, leaving me in the dust figuratively and Dad in the dust literally.

"I'll come back for you, Dad. Don't you worry. Mom needs me right now, I think you'll understand."

I'm used to chaos, but this is something else. Oh, how I wish I could have this back, all these mammals around me. I've heard so few voices in the six years since my parents died, and it's lonely as can be. Zootopian winters are cold and unforgiving, and there are even fewer mammals that dare brave the streets. I, unlike all of those mammals, don't have anyone else to turn to. No sane mammal would dare walk through an alleyway, let alone peer into an abandoned refrigerator box that's held together by duct tape. Home Sweet Home for nine of my fifteen years. I haven't let slip even the smallest true detail of my housing arrangement.

You see, my parents were young when they got married, two years later, at seventeen, they had me. I thought teenage pregnancy was a rabbit thing, but it looks like it's a fox thing too. Anyways, their marriage was incredibly divisive. My mother was a kit actress by the name of Juliana Stehlen, my father was a factory worker for Buckefeller's Oil. A match made in heaven for them, 'tainting the family bloodline' to everyone else. What made matters worse was that he took her name, not the other way around. This had never been heard of before, and it ripped my family to shreds. No one could escape the feuds, no one, not even if they weren't involved in the matter.

Well, my parents didn't care, and they tied the knot on April 17, 1975. Both of them were fifteen. Yes, he was a line worker at fifteen, even in the seventies. No one cared, really, seeing as he was a fox.

Well, foxes or not, they were determined to do better for themselves. They settled on down in the suburbs, bought a house and car, and had me. Electra Juliana Stehlen, after my mom. I look just like my dad, though. My mom's last name means 'steel' in Germane, but my dad was a silver fox. I got his fur and my mom's eyes- emerald green.

I've heard parents tell their kits that they're just like their mother or father or whomever. I never heard that from my parents. What they always told me was that I was my own mammal. I was their little bundle of joy, as they called me, right up until the day they died. I'm getting there, don't rush the subject.

September seventeenth, nineteen seventy-seven. My birthday. September seventeenth, nineteen eighty-three. Also my birthday. The weather was horrible, but we had all gone out to dinner together, to Linguini's, my favorite Itailian restaurant. We got there at about 7:30, and we stayed for quite a long time. We didn't leave until 9:45, I remember that time exactly. I remember it exactly because we had been on the road for five minutes when it happened. We were headed around this blind corner, just over a mile from our house, when this truck came barreling around it and hit our van head on. You can guess who the only survivor was.

Before the accident, our house, which my parents had nicknamed "The Foxes' Den," was lively and bright. My parents didn't have much money, so we made do with what we had for entertainment. What we had was several shelves of books, a leather armchair, and a record player that my mom would always play "Oh, Susanna" on for me. When they died, everything stopped. Everything went quiet, and as I couldn't get a job at six coupled with the family feud, out I went onto the streets.

Someway, somehow, Kit Protective Services found out about me and scooped me up, then sent me to an orphanage, which wouldn't take me. They couldn't refuse me up front, oh no, that was illegal. But as this vixen's luck would have it, they dumped me back out on the street. "We don't want you here, fox. Who knows what sort of evil you spawned from." That's what they said, I swear. This fox is an honest fox. So out I went. I found an old piano box down an alleyway near my school and called it home.

I am an honest fox, so I hate to admit this, but I have stolen before, I don't think that would surprise anyone. A fox stealing? What else do they do? Most mammals I've run into seem to concur, foxes are the spawn of the devil. Yes, to answer the question, you get used to it. You also get used to sleeping in a sleeping bag in a box, which makes you look like a puffball because you never lose your winter fur.

So yes, chaos is nice, except not this kind.

Is that enough of an explanation?

"Yes, Electra, enough to last a lifetime."

"Ow-ow-ow-ow-ow-ow-ow-ow-ow…...ow-ow-ow-ow-ow-ow-ow-ow….I just can't say that enough right n-ow-ow-ow! Dang it! Can't my body stop cramping?"

"No, Judy, I don't think so. Do you realize what just happened?" John asked.

"I just gave birth to a fox. Yes, I realize what just happened."

"Sounds like Nick's rubbing off on you, Judy."

"What do you think, John? I've known him for years, but you've known him his entire life. I bet you've realized that sarcasm's a strong suit of his, whatever version you're talking about."

"What just happened?" Nick stood in the outer door frame, rubbing his head. What did I miss?"

"A lot," Electra and I both said. "Jinx! Double jinx! Triple jinx! Seriously, though," I continued, holding up two red paws, "you missed a lot, Dad."

"Where were you, Nick? I was worried sick!"

"You were worried sick? Heck, I was worried sick about you, that's why there's this big knot on the back of my head."

"You fainted," Electra laughed. "Now, would you like to see your daughter? She's adorable…." Then her voice dropped to barely a whisper. "She reminds me of my little sis…" Then she started sobbing, tears streaming down her cheeks. "I miss her so much. You guys wouldn't get it, how lonely the streets are, what it's like to have no one at all to turn to."

"What do you mean, Electra?"

"Luke, do *hic* you want to *hic* tell them, or should *hic* I?"

"I'll tell them." From there, I proceeded to repeat to them the story Electra had told me. By the time I was done, they were all crying openly and Dad was hugging Electra to his chest.

"Why did you never tell us?" Marian was the first to speak. "You've known us for years, Electra. Why not tell us sooner? We could've helped you."

"I didn't want to cause you any trouble. Please, don't be mad at me. That's the last thing I want."

"Electra, that's never going to happen," Nick said. "Not if you're going to be calling me Dad."

She whipped right around to face my parents. "You mean it?"

"I always keep my promises. Come here, kiddo."

Did he really just say that? That he'll be my dad? How can he love me like that? He just found out I'm an orphan, and now he's offering to adopt me on the spot? I hope this isn't a dream...Better pinch myself to find out.

"Ow!" Nope, definitely not a dream. Oh, sweet Karma. I have a family! Which means...Luke's my brother. Guess I can't date him anymore.

He must have been reading my thoughts, because right then he spoke up. "Looks like you won't have to be my girlfriend, Electra. You'll just have to be my sister instead."

"That's a lot better, Luke. Infinitely better. You know, I just realized something."

"What's that?" he asked.

"I just let out a breath that it feels like I've been holding in for years."

"It wouldn't surprise me to find out that you have been, sis. Come here, everyone. Group hug! Jack, you too."

"Do I have to?" he grumbled.

"Sourpuss. Yes, you do."

"Fine, fine." He came over. "On three. One, two, three!"

We separated, and Judy- Mom- wow, I really have one- spoke up. "Okay, two questions. Everyone's attention, up here!"

Everyone turned their eyes towards her. "First- who forgot the diapers? Kits are messy."

Everyone laughed, and Mom scowled. "Don't laugh. It's not funny."

"Yes, it is," Luke said.

"Lucas Michael Wilde. Do not think for a second that just because you're older doesn't meant that I'm going to start ignoring you and that I won't punish you for being a smart aleck."

Luke's ears flattened against his head. "Yes, Mom," he muttered.

"That's better. John, could I have some towels, soap, and water please?"

"You bet," he replied, handing the requested items over to her.

"Second," Mom continued. "Has anyone given any thought as to how we're all getting out of here? Without, of course, destroying the world?"

"I wouldn't worry about that," came a voice from behind us. "I've already done that."

"Hey everyone. Miss me?"


	16. Part 16: Chapter 26

"You know, you guys took quite a long time to find, I have to give you props for that," Bellwether chuckled. "You have no idea just how annoying it is trekking through time. Now, I think you all know what I want."

"Yes, we do, and if you think we're just going to hand ourselves over, Dawn, you're out of your mind."

"Oh, I knew that already. Let me ask -demand- it again. Come with me, or lay down your lives. Simple, really. Although I wouldn't mind a little blood spilled. Not after what happened thirty years ago. I think you know what I mean there, John. Think about it, it'll come back to you. You haven't always been honest, Honest John."

"What, you still don't get it? You really don't remember? Boy, you are a dumb fox."

"No one," John snarled, "calls me dumb and gets away with it."

"Fine, then," Bellwether snarled. "I'll prove it to you, if you'd like." With that, she pulled out her gun, levelled it at his head, and…

BANG!

"What was that sup-?" John tried to ask, but his words were cut off by a snarl. His snarl.

"Run!" I shouted.

"Way ahead of you there, Judy!"

Great, night howler. Isn't this just fun?

"Oh, so you thought I wouldn't come prepared? Whoopsie…"

"Electra, scatter! Luke! Nick?" I called for them, hoping that they'd be alright, but Bellwether's goons had them pinned. Luke was in the back of the kitchen, holding a knife sharpener in his paws and failing it around like a madfox. Nick was nowhere to be seen, and me? I was scampering backwards on all fours, trying not to have my throat torn out by my father-in-law. Crap, crap, crap.

Great, now I have myself cornered by a savage fox. Great, I'm dead, they're dead, we're all dead!

Grrrrr…..Well, if this is it, then goodbye, world!

John crept closer, closer, closer. I could see his pupils dilate and his mouth open.

"I'm sorry it had to end this way, Judy," Bellwether cackled from above me. "It's too bad, really. I did like you. Now, bye-bye, bunny."

With that, fangs sank into my neck. I screamed, then,...nothing.

Huh-huh-huh-huh...In, out, in, out, in, out. Breathe. Where the hey…? That can't be right. Where am I? Why does my neck hurt so much?

Then...Bellwether! Where is she? Yeagh!

I sat bolt upright, my forehead drenched in sweat. "Where is she?!"

"Where's who, hun-bun?"

"Geez, Bon, what are you doing calling her hun-bun? We don't even know her!"

"Oh, relax, Stu, all bunnies are related. Give it a rest, would you?"

"Oh, sweet cheese and crackers, Bon. The poor girl's had it rough, can't you see that?"

"Yes, I can, Stu. It took me half an hour to stop the bleeding on her looked to me like it was a fox bite."

"A fox bite? Well, cripes, Bon, why didn't you call the hospital?"

"I thought I could take care of it myself, I mean, I have a hundred and sixty-two kits, I think I can take care of a bite."

"But a fox bite, Bon. Those are bad. They could get infected. Or worse…"

"Stu, stop it."

"Oh, Sweet Karma, that hurts! Where am I?" Huh-whoo, Huh-whoo. In, out. In, out. "Calm down, Judy. You're thirty-two. A grown woman. Get a grip. Get a grip? Are you crazy? You were just attacked by a fox!"

"Judy? That's our oldest daughter's name. That's so neat, you two have the same name. And you look a lot like her, too."

"You're not going to believe me, but…"

"But what?"

"Hi, Mom, Dad. How are you?"

Both of them gasped, and Mom was the first to speak. "Are you seriously trying to convince us that you're our daughter? You look older than me."

"Gee, thanks, and yes, I am. Both your daughter, and older than you, for goodness' sake, I'm thirty-two. Okay, I'm getting a little wound up. Just...listen, okay. You have to listen to me. Please? I know I sound crazy, but…"

The door creaked open to reveal a young black vixen with emerald eyes. "You're not crazy, Mom. I promise."

"Jet, thank goodness you're okay. For goodness' sake, you kits keep growing up so fast...I mean,...," I faltered.

"Yeah, I know. Last time you saw me was a week ago, and I was a baby. Now, I'm thirteen, I know that, too. There's just something about travelling through time. I don't know what it is, but ta-da! Oh, and would you take the Furtari away from Luke and Electra, they've been playing Pawng on it all morning, and they haven't let me play once," she huffed, crossing her arms over her chest. "You'd think that they'd let their little sis have a turn."

"You would have gotten a turn just now, Jet," Luke called, "if you'd stayed put."

"Well, I don't know if you know, fellas, but Mom's a bit hurt…"

"We know that, Jet. Don't you remember that you're the only Wilde kit that's been awake this last week? We've all been out like rocks. You, as the baby, were awake. Heck, I didn't know what happened until I stumbled out of bed and saw you sitting in the kitchen, sipping coffee. I don't know how you can stand that stuff, but I knew then and there that you were my sister. I hate Bellwether, but at least Mom and Dad won't ever have to buy you diapers."

"Yeah, at least. Come on, guys, get off the Furtari and help Mom. On the double, let's go!"

"Alright, alright, we're coming."

"You know, Jet, I was planning on naming you Holly Marian."

"But when you saw my fur, you scrapped that name and called me Jet Blackthorne instead. Mom, you've told me this story hundreds of times before now, I know it by heart."

"No, I haven't." I opened my mouth to argue, but then I paused. She's probably right. No, scratch that, she is. John bit me around the neck, and my kit was a newborn. Now, a week later in "actual" time, she's thirteen. Karma, I feel so old.

"So, who knows what now? I, for one, sure as heck do not know. And has anyone seen Marian and John?"

"Marian's fine. John, well, he's not so fine, let's just put it that way."

"Why, what happened? Is anyone more hurt?"

"Other than you, Judy, no one."

"You called me Judy. I'm surprised."

"Well, it's what you said your name was, and even if there's absolutely no way that you're our Judy, that's your name is, so that's what I'll call you."

"Anyways, about John?"

"Oh, yes, about him. We found him on the porch this morning, rocking himself back and forth with his mouth clamped shut between his paws. He was muttering something about really hating 'you', or something like that."

"He was sane?"

"Well, I don't know if I'd call any fox sane, but-"

"Bon!"

"Geez, Stu, it just slipped out. And since when do you care about foxes and their feelings?"

"Bon, sometimes I just-ugh. Yes, to answer your question, he was sane. He seemed a little flustered, but yes, sane."

"How'd you calm him down?"

"I gave him some coffee. It winds us bunnies up, but I remember reading somewhere that it calms most non-lapins, including foxes, down, so I gave him a cup. It didn't even cross my mind to wonder how you got here, seven foxes and two bunnies all together. My husband Stu just was walking home a few days ago and saw you nine all sprawled out beside the road and called me straight away. Only one of you, the black vixen- Jet?- was awake. She seemed really scared. I would be too had I been in her shoes."

"So what did you do after that?"

"Well, foxes or not, I'm a mother. I did what my instincts told me (except the "Run away!" part), and hauled you all home in the truck. Foxes or not, I was going to help!"

"And I'm glad you did. But can someone, someone, please get me out of this bed?"

"Okay," Jet said. "I'll take one arm. Luke, you take the other."

"You betcha, sis."

"On your mark, one, two, three, up!" they said, grabbing me under my shoulders and hoisting me to my feet on the floor.

"Okay, everyone to the central room," Bonnie called. "We need some explanations."

5 Minutes Later~

"Okay, so who wants to go first?" Stu asked. "Bonnie and I want to hear from everyone."

"I'll go," Jet said. "On one condition."

"And just what might that be?"

"The suspension of disbelief. Bonnie, Stu- It is alright that I call you that, isn't it?"

"Yes, it's fine, Jet. We won't say anything until you're done. The same goes for everyone else."

"Good. Here goes."

You know who I am, you know my name. But here's the thing- I'm still figuring all that out. Jet Blackthorne Wilde, that's my name; I'm thirteen, but the kicker: no, I'm not. Let me tell you something:

As far as I know, I'm a week old. My family knows it, Electra was telling me about the day I was born- Kitmas Day, 1993. So how does it make sense for a teenaged version of me to be talking with you on Easter Day, 2000? It doesn't. I'm still trying to figure that one out. I know a little bit of the how, but not a bit of the why.

But there's this picture in my head that I can't quite get out. I was sitting on the side of the road there, not doing much besides being a baby, and I heard this little voice whisper in the back of my ear.

Jet, they're going to need you. Have a few years; don't worry, you'll remember. Just hang on a second there, little one.

Then I felt the ground start to shift a little, and I felt like someone was taking me and ever-so-slightly stretching me, almost as if I was pizza dough. It's the oddest thing I've ever felt.

Well, when it subsided, I was left feeling a little off-kilter. That, and everything seemed smaller.

"Wierd. That's-" I clamped a paw over my muzzle. "Did I just-" Yes, Jet, yes, you did.

Then I looked down at myself. "So that's what she meant. Divine intervention. Huh."

Well, you're certainly taking this in stride. Karma herself just came to have a chat with you, and all you can think of is "Huh?"

I am not having this argument with myself. Couldn't she have at least given me some clothes? Fur only goes so far, you know.

I do, and I'm freezing!

Yes, and you're also a young vixen now. Look, Jet, you may not like it, but you're not a baby anymore. You can deal with some cold. Good thing you have a winter coat.

But it's cold!

Mm-hrm, and you're playing right along to the whiny vixen stereotype.

Since when do you know any stereotypes?

Since when have I been a teenager? Look, can we not do this, please? You're sounding like a baby.

There's no you or me, we're one and the same. Besides that, you are technically a baby.

Oh, leave it.

"That's just about when you guys showed up. You want to take it from here, Mr. Hopps?"

"Sure."

One Week Earlier

"I was just walking home from the market last week- they had a special on root vegetables, and I wanted to stock up, so I'd gone down to get some before they ran out. We're in Bunnyburrow, so you'd better hurry to the market because the fresh veggies will be gone in a heartbeat. Bunnies do get sick of carrots, you know.

"Anyways, I was just passing by the neighbor's fields, and I saw this pile of mammals by the roadside, and I thought, "Maybe it's just some bunnies snuggling together." But as I got closer, I could see that that wasn't the case, not the case at all. In fact, there were only a few bunnies, most of the mammals were foxes, and they were all out cold except for one, that would have been you, Jet. You were just sitting there, staring off into space and mumbling about something. You remember that, dearie?"

"Yes, I remember."

"Well, I saw you guys by the side of the road and I couldn't very well leave you there. I don't care if I hate foxes, I help mammals in need. So I called my wife, and she sped down in the truck. We piled you all in and hauled you here to the warren. You guys have been out for the last week. We were hoping you'd all wake up, and thank Karma you did."

"I thought Karma was a fox goddess?"

"She is, Jet, but we rabbits believe in her too. Sometimes we just need a little more balance than we have, and we look to Karma for that. Now, once Stu had brought you all here, it was my turn."

"Cripes, Stu, what did you do? I sent you for veggies, not a mixed bag of mammals. Some of them are foxes to boot! What on Earth were you thinking?"

"That they could use our help, that's what! Come on, Bon, just help me get them in the truck. Forget about the fox part, load them on the truck and let's get them back to the warren and get them warm."

Well, we did that- got you home and all cleaned up. Let me tell you, it's been one heck of a week, Judy. Jet's been the only one awake this whole week, and she's been fretting her tail off about you. In fact, she's been crawling into bed with you and curling up beside you. That girl really likes you, let me tell you. There's something more than friendship between you two. I don't know, it seemed almost daughterly.

Anyways, you seem to be doing better, dear. I'm glad you are.

"I'm glad you are, dear. Now, do you care to tell us why, for one, you keep calling us Mom and Dad; two, why you're with all those foxes; three, what they're doing calling you Mom; and four, what all of you are doing here?"

"More than glad to. Let's do first things first, that seems to be the simplest. Why do I keep calling you two Mom and Dad. Well, that's simple, really, it's because you are. I know you're expecting an explanation, but I have a request."

"What might that be?"

"Just listen and say nothing until I'm done."

"We've already been asked that, and we said yes, so why are you asking again?"

"Just agree, okay?"

"Okay, okay, don't get all wound up."

"Okay, here goes."

"Thirteen's a bit young to get married, even for rabbits, but you two did, and began doing what rabbits do: having kits. Your first litter was an anomaly- just one kit. August fourth of 1991 brought you Judith Laverne Hopps, after her grandmothers. She's right outside the doorframe, you know- eavesdropping.

"Judith, you get-" Bonnie began.

"No, it's okay, I don't mind. Well, I know one thing, and that's that she wants to be a police officer. You don't want her to, she's your little cotton ball, I can appreciate wanting to protect her. But this summer, something's going to happen to her that's going to define her whole world.

"You know the Grey's kit, Gideon?"

"Yes, I do. I don't trust him at all, the nasty little bugger. He's a bully to everyone, and his parents won't stop him."

"Well, at the Carrot Days festival this summer, she's going to be scratched by him after putting on her play: 'Nice costume, loser. What kind of world are you livin' in if you think a bunny can be a cop.' Those will be his exact words to her. He'll shove her in the dirt and tell her she can't ever be a cop, then claw her."

Upon hearing this, Bonnie and Stu gasped together. "What?!"

"I swear to Karma that it's the truth. He did, and that just made her more determined to become a cop, and it made her hate- and fear- foxes.

"Fast-forward fifteen years. J. L. Hopps is not only a cop, but Precinct One's best."

"Gee, thanks a lot."

"You're welcome, Nick. But as I was saying, on her first day, she ran into a fox, and what did she think but that he was going to do something illegal. So I followed him."

"Guilty as charged." Nick spoke up. "I was doing something illegal, no surprise there, right? Anyways, Judy followed me; tricked me into helping her with her case."

"What are the magic words?"

"Felony tax evasion."

"Gotcha, Slick. Yes, I blackmailed him into coming along with me for my first case, telling him that otherwise, the only place that he'd be selling his Pawpsicles was the prison cafeteria."

"You wound me, Carrots. Yes, she hustled me good. But long story short, we solved the case (it was the sheep), and Nicholas Wilde became Zootopia's first fox cop. What a turnaround."

"About the sheep- Dawn Bellwether, the Assistant Mayor, or in her words, 'more like a glorified secretary.' Well, it was her, and off to jail she went. Only problem is, with our penal system, money can get you pretty much anywhere."

"Including into the prison where she'd had Jack Savage send us."

"Savage? I know that family."

"I'm sure you do, and you're related to them, aren't you?"

"Yes, as I said, all bunnies are related. But Jack's just a kit."

"That's the point we're trying to get across here. We're not from this time, we're from 2021. If you'd just let us explain, we'd get there faster. Here's the thing: in the world where we're from, Jack Savage directs the ZIA, and he's a nitwit."

"Hey!" Jack protested. "I am not!"

"Maybe if you had paid more attention, Dawn Bellwether wouldn't have escaped from jail. Chew on that, Savage."

"Fine, fine. You have me there. But I'm sick of dealing with your mistakes, Jack. I'll have you know that I hold you personally responsible for all of this."

"Ooh, scary, Wilde. What are you going to do, kill me?"

"You know, you're quoting Bellwether."

"If I cared- which I don't- I wouldn't be doing it. But I'd like to hear your plan, Wilde. You say it's all my fault, and I've yet to hear you propose a solution to all of this mess. Yes, granted, I may have gotten us into this, but at least I'm actively trying to get us out."

"Actively? Hah! Your definition of 'actively,' Savage, is the oddest I've ever seen. You know, if I were a casual observer, I'd swear you were actively trying to do as little as possible.

"Look, guys- Dad, Jack- quit trying to kill each other, okay? You're giving the Hopps quite the fright."

"All I'm asking," Dad growled, is that someone take responsibility here. I don't care who it is, it can even be me. I'm sick of wandering about without a plan."

"It's sort of hard to plan for time travel, Nicholas."

"Shouldn't have built those bombs, Savage."

"Let. It. Go. Take a few breaths and consider not ripping my throat out."

"Fine. What do you propose?"

"You know, I think that that's the calmest I've ever heard you, Wilde. But what do I propose? You're right, Nick, I have nothing. None of us has anything. No one here ever thought it was possible. Before you say anything-"

"But-"

"But nothing, Nick. I built them, but it was purely hypothetical science. I never even considered the fact that they might do their job, I just thought that they'd be one hell of a weapon, explosive power considered."

"May I interject?" Marian asked.

"Yes, Marian?"

"Well, Jack, I, for one, think you're one dumb bunny. What were you thinking?!"

"No clue, Mrs. Wilde," Jack said, his ears flat against the back of his head. "Not. A. Clue. But since we all want solutions, can everyone relax for a second?"

"T-That would be much appreciated," Stu stuttered. "I never knew a fox could get that angry."

"Me neither, but I don't know any other foxes besides the Greys. Seriously, though, what should we do?"

"Not a clue. What do you think?"

"Well," Electra interjected, "since I'm getting dragged along, can I have a say?"

"Of course. What do you think we should do? I'm stuck."

"Well, ask John, why don't you?"

"You're crazy, Electra."

"I'm a Wilde. What else did you expect?"

"I thought you were a Stehlen?"

"Is this really what you want to talk about? We have more important things to be doing. Besides, Nick and Judy are adopting me, weren't you paying attention?"

"Probably not," Jack muttered. "Mrs. Hopps, will you get John, please?"

"Of course, Mister Savage."

"Please, Jack is fine."

"Okay then, Jack. I'll get him."

10 Minutes Later

"So what happened back there, John? Something about "you?"

"Not y-o-u, e-w-e. Bellwether."

"That makes more sense. What did you: y-o-u, for clarification, mean when you were muttering on the porch back there?"

"I heard her say something before I went under."

"Could you tell us what that was?"

"Of course. She said, and I quote, 'Don't you know I'm the low woman on the totem pole? Can't imagine what that'll mean when you're up against the big guns.'"

"Well, looks like things just got interesting."

"No kidding."


	17. Part 17: Chapter 27

"I'm the low woman on the totem pole."

That's the message that blasted sheep left us, which opens up a whole heck of a lot of questions. The biggest one, at least to me, is whether or not she's telling the truth, and with her track record? It makes this rabbit skeptical.

In all my years with the ZIA, I've had to deal with plenty of psychopaths, but I have to say, Bellwether sure takes the cake. I didn't think that her level of insanity was possible, but heck, you learn something new every day. The question remains, though- was she being honest?

Well, I'm stuck there. My instinct is screaming "No!" at me, but lucky buck that I am, I have a sneaking suspicion that she's being honest, and that in a way, I'm to blame. Bellwether was an orphan- her parents were killed by foxes when she was twelve. In her words, "You haven't always been honest, Honest John." She's right, unfortunately.

May 11, 1987 | Office of Jack Savage | Director, Special Forces Division, ZIA

"Agent John Wilde, at your service, sir!" What a formal introduction, I never did much care for formalities.

"Please, call me Jack."

"Then in that case, call me John."

"Well, John, I have a little something I'd like you to look into."

"What's that, sir?"

"Jack, remember? Anyways, there's been a string of robberies over in Tundratown. I have a hunch that they're connected. Go investigate."

"Okay, Jack. I won't disappoint you, I promise!"

"That kid's going to get himself in so much trouble…."

"I'm sorry to say this, but John, you screwed up big time. I told you to investigate robberies, not shoot the suspects."

"Look, Director, it was in self-defense."

"Funny, I didn't think that pulling your gun on two civilians and shooting them point blank qualifies as self-defense. So, before you lose your badge, Wilde, spill it."

"But-"

"Spill the beans, or one, you're headed home sans badge, and two, I'll blacklist you."

"You wouldn't dare! My tailoring business is my life! If I lose that, then my family and I are done for!"

"That's your problem, Johnathan, not mine. So are you going to talk, or will I be calling your wife to let her know what you really do for your weekends?"

"Fine, fine, I'll talk, Savage, but for one reason and that reason only- my family. I don't know what your plans are, you prick, but if you drag my wife and son into this, you'll never stop regretting it. That is, if you live to do so."

"You should be thankful that you're not headed out the door right now, Wilde. Now tell me: Why did you kill Martin and Louise Bellwether? They have a daughter, Dawn, who you just orphaned, so you had better have one hell of an explanation!"

"Let's begin at the beginning, shall we? But let me say, Savage, that yesterday was in no way a good day for me, so don't push it."

"Protect and serve. It should be the ZPD's motto- oh, wait, it already is- but not the ZIA's. We're not cops, we're operatives, agents, but not officers. I didn't spend ten years busting my tail under Jack Savage and his predecessor, a diminutive gerboa named Sandthistle who made up for his lack in height with hatred for foxes, to be compared to a beat cop.

"As for Sandthistle, boy, was he ever happy when I showed up. I got flak for everything I did, even if I did it right. So when I got something wrong, you wouldn't believe just how quickly my ears could fold against my head. Just a head's up for all you mammals out there- Whatever you do, don't, don't, don't be born a fox. Please.

So when one arrogant speciesist prick retired, another one took his place. Jackson Savage, the most ridiculous hare I've ever met. Still, he was- is- my boss, and orders are orders. Still, sometimes you wonder if what you're doing is right.

Anyways, this is the eighties, and did you hear about City Hall's new city motto? 'Anyone Can Be Anything.' I wonder who thought that one up. But just because we're living in a changing world, that doesn't mean that mammals want to change. I have a feeling, Director, that you're one of those mammals.

I remember one thing in particular, Director, and that's the fact that the Bellwethers were interspecies marriage proponents."

"Which doesn't make sense at all, now does it, Wilde? They're both sheep, why would they care whether mammals of one species can marry mammals of another?"

"Does that matter, Director? Does it justify having one of your own agents, who is a fox, by the way, kill them? What were they really stealing, Savage? Let me guess- your over-inflated ego."

"I've listened to you, Wilde, now, sit down, shut your muzzle, and listen to my side of the story. Look, we all have our reasons, right?"

"I'm not so sure about that one, unless you just like cold-blooded murder."

"Which I do not, but what I do like is payback."

"Payback for what?! Darn you, Savage, their blood is all over me, and my wife's pretty close to figuring out what I'm up to. So why? This whole thing is illegal, so why, you bunny bas-"

"Before you go any farther with that, one, my parents were married, two, they killed my mother."

"I thought she was still alive?"

"No, my dad has just been really good at covering things up. Which might explain why I am. My mother was also an interspecies marriage advocate. Yes, I really do support interspecies marriage. After all, my girlfriend's a fox. Her name is Skye Winter. She's wonderful, you should meet her sometime. But to answer the question, yes, it was revenge. Just...do it, okay?"

"Do what?"

"I can't run from this any longer. I'm done, John. Just cuff me at take me, but please, take me out the back. I don't want the others to see me like this."

"If you didn't want to be seen like this, maybe you shouldn't have done it."

"So then what are you waiting for? Cuff me and get it over with."

"No."

"What?"

"Sorry, what I said was no. I will not be cuffing you."

"But-"

"But nothing, Jackson. I can't blame you for everything. I was the one who did it, so really, whose fault is it? Mine. I should be the one going to the slammer."

"Yes, but you did it on my orders."

"Orders which I could have chosen to disobey. Look, we're both guilty, just admit it. But unless you want to go down for it, I suggest you keep your mouth shut."

Monday, April 24, 2000

Bunnyburrow, Hopps Residence

"Why can't anything just be easy for once?"

"That's not life, Mom."

"Thank you, Counselor Wilde."

"You're welcome, Mom."

"That wasn't meant to be a compliment, Jet."

"Mm-hrm, I know. I think I inherited Dad's sense of sarcasm."

"Pretty much everything but his fur color."

"You got that right. Now, back to business."

"Have you made any progress, Jet?"

"Well, here's the thing- the timeline's ripped, so we're not going to be able to travel along it anymore, at least, not linearly."

"Would you please explain that? I'm a cop, not a quantum physicist."

"We can't just travel from one year in time to the next. We have to jump around, and who knows where we'll end up? Not me."

"So what you're saying is that if we try to go anywhere, we'll end up lost?"

"Pretty much."

"So what do you suggest we do?"

"Wait just a second!"

"What the-? Nick? Are you alright?"

"No, not really. Look," he said, holding out a paper.

"What is it?"

"Read it."

It was the front page of the Zootopia Daily Sun, dated January 17, 2021.

"2021? Is this a prank?"

"You had better hope so, Carrots, because if it's not, we're in for some real trouble. Keep reading."

Zootopia Daily Sun ~ January 17, 2021

HERO COPS JUDY HOPPS AND NICK WILDE KILLED IN LINE OF DUTY ~Breaking News

Maxine Marks, Reporter

After taking down Ex-Mayor Dawn Bellwether in last week's "Night Howler Crisis," Lieutenants Judith Hopps and Nicholas Wilde seemed invincible, but this morning, a sniper proved the city otherwise, killing both of the city's finest with a single bullet, fired as the two officers stood for roll call at Precinct One.

Lauded for exposing the evils of the collar system, Lieutenant Hopps is also credited with the overthrow of the Sowviet regime that had dominated Zootopia since the 1920s. Along with her accomplice, then Assistant Mayor Nicholas Wilde, she eradicated the old system and helped establish the new.

Unfortunately for the overly-energetic rabbit, with fame comes a price on your head, one that was cashed in less than two hours ago.

Precinct One Chief James Wolford had this to say about the two fallen officers: "Nick, Judy- Wilde, Hopps, your final patrol has ended. Farewell, fair wishes, and fairness awaits you both."

Lieutenant Wilde is survived by his sister, Adriana; children, Jet, Electra, and Luke; and his parents, Marian and Johnathan.

He has no other living family; his wife, Judy died at his side at the same time.

Lieutenant Hopps is survived by her mother, Bonnie, as well as 147 of her 275 brothers and sisters.

She is predeceased by her father Stu, as well as 128 of her brothers and sisters.

Her husband, Nicholas, perished with her.

A citywide memorial service for the fallen officers is to be held this afternoon.

Lt. Judith "Judy" Hopps

1992-2021; 39 Years

Lt. Nicholas "Nick" Wilde

1984-2021; 47 Years

Rest In Peace, Officers. You will be missed.

A shaking sob slipped past my lips. "K-K-Killed? Wha-What? That's not right, we're still alive, and you don't have a sister, Nick."

"Chalk it up to Bellwether then, Judy. I don't know what this is, but I can sense a storm blowing in. Are you ready for this, whatever this might be?"

"In all honesty, Nick? Are you nuts? You'd have to be off your rocker to think that I could ever possibly be ready for this!"

"You had better ready yourself up then, Judy, because Bellwether's having her way with the future."

"What is this, anyways?" I said, shaking the newspaper in my paws. "It doesn't make sense."

"An alternate timeline, perhaps?"

"Whatever it is, Nick, I'm scared."

"Me too, Carrots, me too."


	18. Part 18: Chapter 28

our Years Earlier

"I want them dead. I want Hopps and Wilde dead, Savage, and you, my lapin friend, are going to help me."

It's not everyday that a psychopath comes barging into your office and wants you to order two mammals' deaths, mammals, which I might add, are the city's highest-profile and best cops. Aside from the obvious legal and moral question that would raise, there's also the romantic one- Can I really kill my ex-girlfriend? No, no no!

"Sorry, I don't think I heard you correctly. What was that? Besides that, what are you not doing in jail? They sent you away years ago."

"Aren't I a little angel? Day pass out on the town, unsupervised, but with a tracker. A tracker which, might I add, is disabled. Oopsie! But what I said was that I want Hopps and Wilde dead! Was that not clear, you bunny buffoon? Funny, I thought those long ears of yours were supposed to make you hear better, not worse."

"Look, Dawn, no is do you want them dead for, anyways? It's not as if they've done something wrong, you know.

"I have my reasons."

"I'm sure you do, Dawn, but is this really the best way to go about it?"

"...What makes you think I care, Savage? They'll be out of my way, that's what matters. So do me a favor and cover my tracks. Lock the city down, I don't know, call DEFCON 5, something."

"You realize DEFCON 5's the lowest alert, right?"

"Not anymore, Savage. It's time for some fun!"

Oh, Sweet Serendipity, what have I gotten myself into?

"What are you into this for, Dawn? What do you stand to gain?"

"As I said, I have my reasons, Savage. You may not understand them, but I have my reasons."

"You've said that, Dawn, so tell me!"

"For every action, there is an equal and opposite reaction. Galileo Galilion, I think."

"It was Isaac Newtrunk. Get on with it."

"You handled the case, you tell me."

"What case?"

"I'm an orphan, dumb-bun. The dots being connected up there yet? Remember this?," she produced a tape recorder from her pocket and pressed play. A tinny voice came from the speaker:

"Agent John Wilde, at your service, sir!"

I slapped a paw to my forehead. "Dumb bunny, dumb bunny, dumb bunny."

Bellwether laughed. "Yeah, you are. You haven't even asked how I got the recording. Tsk, tsk, tsk. Boy, you are just full of fluff, aren't you? No brain, just fluff. But enough with the pleasantries, are you going to give me what you want or not?"

"What happens if I say no, Dawn? What are you going to do about that?"

"This," she said, pulling a Colt .45 out of her jumpsuit pocket and levelling it at my head.

"Oh. I see." I hate to think that after all these years, I'd be that easy to coerce, but at the risk of sounding horribly stereotyped, rabbits are afraid of quite a lot of things, guns being one of them.

"Alright, Dawn, you win."

Well, shoot. What now?

"I'm glad you see it my way, Jackson. Very glad indeed."

Hopps Residence, 1991

Rabbits often pick their partner rather early in life, and unlike other mammals who date one at a time, we rabbits like to double-, triple-, or even-more-date. But, like Judy, I never was one to conform to cultural norms, that trait's what's gotten me where I am, in both the good and the bad.

I was only seventeen when I became Commissioner of the Special Forces Division of the ZIA. High exam scores, plus a history of being a star player (I'm not trying to brag, I'm just stating the facts.), and at the start of my junior year of high school, in 1989, the ZIA came knocking. They needed a new Commissioner, and they thought I was the perfect mammal for the job, even at seventeen.

Seventeen, and if you've done your math, that makes me twenty-one years older than my ex-girlfriend, Judy Wilde. Well, still Hopps, technically, since she and Nick have been a bit to preoccupied to make it official. Ah, well, rabbits do have a rap for being rather amorous. Darn the stereotypes, but I think I fit them rather too well.

In all my years, I've seen more murders than I care recount, and consider this an official declaration of guilt, some of them were on my orders. Heck, some of them I committed myself. Officially, my paws are clean, but if you look closely enough, the fur on my front paws is perpetually an ever-so-slight pink.

But what's the point of all this rambling? Get to the point, Savage. Backwards as it may seem, at least to me, seeing hundreds, if not thousands of murders makes one want to read murder mysteries. Here's what I'm trying to get at- this whole this seems just like a murder mystery, and not a good one, but not a bad one, either. The villain is rather cliched, though, I mean, why would she come right out and say that she's not the only one? It's a rather overused plot device.

Though with Bellwether's track record, she only lies if she has to, and I didn't detect a lie in the message she sent us through John Wilde, a fox, who, on my orders, killed Bellwether's parents. In retrospect, was that hit really necessary? No. No, because like Bellwether claims of herself, they were the low ones on the totem pole. That's really what's convinced me of her not-entirely-guiltiness.

So that pops the question- whodunit? I may have a clue there. The-

"Hey, Jack, what're you writing in that book there?"

"Yike! Don't sneak up on me like that, Electra!" I had been writing in Judy's private study, with her permission, and with the size of the Hopps warren being what it is, I thought that I had complete privacy. I guess not.

"Are you going to answer the question or not?" she said, tapping her foot on a way that reminded me of Judy. "This vixen's impatient."

"A trait you no doubt inherited from your mother. I think I have a lead. Call together the adults, this is crucial!"

Twenty Minutes Later

"Okay, Jack, I think that's everyone. Finally. I think you can understand how annoying it is to go hunting for someone through this warren."

"Yes, Ma'am, I do….Ow! What was that for?" She slapped me!

"That, Jackson, is for being a dumb bunny."

"You wound me, madam. That's an awful insult, and coming from another bunny? Eeesh."

"I've told you time and time again, call me Bonnie."

"Yes, Ma-" Her paw reached up. "Bonnie."

"That's better. Now, as you have everyone's attention, what's so important?"

"Has anyone here heard of the gang Sherwood Down?"

Both Nick and Judy raised their hands. "Yes? You've heard of them."

"Yes, we both have. They're a rather notorious gang, always after the biggest banks in the city. They've yet to have been caught, and the funny thing is, all the money that they steal has never been found. However, soon after a heist, a charity will report two black suited mammals leaving crates of cash inside their building."

"Robbing the rich to give to the poor."

"Exactly, John. But there's something else- after every heist, the cops arrive to find two things- an apple that has an arrow shot through it, plus graffiti on the building reading MJW2 and crossed fox paws, a reynard's and a vixen's, both wearing wedding bands."

"You don't think that was us, do you?"

"No, Marian, I don't think it was you, this version of the Wildes that I'm looking at right now, I think it's the other timeline's version of you. In the original timeline- please don't shoot the messenger- you two die, separately, before Nick turns ten, John of a cocaine overdose, Marian of a self-inflicted gunshot wound to the head two days later."

"So, then," John said, trying not to let anger fill his voice, " I don't see how it could possibly have been us, seeing as I was a junkie, and my mate Marian here shot herself in the effing head!"

"Ah, I'm getting to that. Please, I know it's hard-"

"Hard? How would you react if you'd just been told that you killed yourself, Savage, leaving your nine-year-old son to fend for himself on the streets? How would you? Huh?"

"The very same way, Marian. You see that house across the street? That's my house, which I inherited thirty years ago, ten in this timeline, when my parents boarded a flight to Bearlin and never returned. 'Mister Savage, it's your parents, sir. Their flight, um, was shot down over Furance. I hate to be the one to tell you this, but…' So John, Marian, I understand what you're going through right now, really, I do, but can we turn back to the matter at hand?"

"I suppose," John muttered. "Get on with it. Tell us more bad news."

"Well, the way history is rewriting itself, you two actually lived."

"Where's the proof?"

"Here," Nick said, pulling three pictures out of his pocket. "Before I went on this crazy journey, these pictures were different. The first one," he said, pointing to a picture of a gravestone. "was originally a gravestone with "John and Marian Wilde, 1964-1994" carved on it. Looks a little different now, huh? "John and Marian Wilde, 1964-" This second one," Nick said, referring to a picture of three foxes hugging, "is my family- you. Before this, it was me crying in front of two funeral wreaths that I'd hung on the wall. I don't know why I did it, perhaps I knew it would be the last reminder I ever have of my parents."

"How about the third one?" John asked, tears brimming.

"Great question, Dad, and here's your answer: instead of me sitting on a bench on top of the Palmtree Hotel, it was a reporter's picture of a fox about to jump off the roof of said hotel."

"I take it," John said, openly crying now, "that said fox was you, wasn't it."

Nick smiled gravely, nodding almost imperceptibly. "Yes, it was. I talked myself out of it, told myself that I wasn't going to be following in my parents' footsteps that way."

"Nick!" Judy gasped. "You never told me!"

"Ow, Carrots, enough with my arm and punches. I didn't tell you because I didn't want you to worry."

"Well, now I'm worried! Dumb! Fox!" she shouted, emphasizing each exclamation with a sucker punch to my arm.

"What did I just say about the arm?"

"I. Don't. Care! You should have told me, we could have gotten over it together!"

"Well, I chose not to, and that's that. Jack, please continue."

"Gladly. As I was saying earlier, though, in this version, you lived, and I think you get why I'm directing this towards you."

"It's because you think that MJW2 stands for Marian and John Wilde."

"Exactly."

"So what now? It's not as if we can just get up and leave 1991, now is it? Besides that, aren't we dead?"

"You're right, we can't just up and leave, there's still planning to get done," I said.

"But what should we do? If we leave, we don't know where we'll be going, when we'll be going, none of that."

"It's also not as if I either care about or control that, John."

"Keep in mind, Savage, that I hold you personally responsible for this."

"Can we not rehash this? It didn't get us anywhere last time, either. As for leaving here, I see it as what choice do we have? The trouble's in the future, we can't just sit around waiting for it to find us."

"Too bad it already has. Put your paws where I can see them, chompers! What the- no collars? I'd better radio Lieutenant Hopps on this one." He picked up his walkie-talkie. "Uh, Hopps?"

"What is it, Rhinovicz?"

"I got a whole bunch of collarless chompers here. What do you advise?"

"Well, Officer, there's a reason you have those spare collars, isn't there? Use them."

Oh, this isn't good.


	19. Part 19: Chapter 29

Put your paws where I can see them, chompers!"

Chompers? Isn't that a slang term from the days of Swinton's rule over this city? But those ended twenty-something years ago...

The rhinoceros before me seemed just as surprised as me-"What the- no collars?" He picked up his walkie-talkie. "Uh, Hopps?"

"What is it, Rhinovicz?"

"I got a whole bunch of collarless chompers here. What do you advise?"

"Well, Officer, there's a reason you have those spare collars, isn't there? Use them."

Oh, this isn't good.

"Pardon me, sir, but-"

"But nothing, fox! Shut your devil-spawn trap before I put a bullet through it! Up against the wall!"

"But-" Nick tried to protest again. He was already against the wall, it wasn't as if he could move any farther.

"But nothing! Didn't you hear me the first time? Now shut the hell up before I shut you up. You wouldn't want that, I promise you. As the Lieutenant knows, if I have to shut somebody up, it's permanent.

"Worthless as your lives are, I don't want to hurt anyone. Well, scratch that. I don't need to hurt anyone. Whether I want to though, well, what's a different story entirely. So, chompers, what seems like the best option? Surrender? That seems like a good one to me. But wait, there's another option, and it looks to me like you worthless pieces of fur are considering it- fighting.

But here's the deal- there's an awfully high demand for fox fur right now, and Mayor Bellwether's promised a bonus to any officer who can give her a fox, preferably dead. So by all means, run. Make my job easy. Seven foxes, two rabbits- there's quite the find. Boy, am I going to get paid well for this!"

"Yeah, right! That's what you think, but if there's one thing you'd better learn about foxes, it's that we never go down without a fight!"

Why do I have to be the only one to speak up? I'm only nine, and already I'm being hunted like I'm worth nothing more than my skin! Is that all a fox is good for in the 2020s? I mean, I'm new to this screwing-around-with-the-timestream thing, and meeting your middle-aged self is somewhat freaky (He's going gray!), so maybe he's gone soft, but I swear to Karma that I, Nicholas Wilde, am not giving in that easily!

"Oh ho ho, a feisty little one! 'Foxes never go down without a fight.' Like I'm going to believe that," he said, gesturing to everyone else, who were all huddled in the back corner of the room. "Looks to me like everyone else isn't fighting, and there's a whole lot of you who are foxes who aren't like you. But I was told to bag you up, and since you won't just go quietly like your compatriots here, well, then I'll have to force your compliance."

"Didn't you hear me, Mister? I said I wasn't giving in without a fight."

"And you think you're going to be able to fight me? A little scrap of a fox against a rhino." He snorted. "Yeah, right."

I hear the gunshot before I feel it- a whizzing sound, then excruciating pain. He shot me! He shot a nine-year-old kit! Why? What did I do to deserve it? I'm just a kit….

That's the last thing I can think before my brain hits the hard shutdown switch.

When you see yourself get shot (My, that sounds odd.), it tears something apart inside you. Unfortunately for me, it does so literally.

My mother always told me that I couldn't think things through; that I think with my tail and not my head. I always told her that she was wrong, but if she could see me right now, she'd be shaking her head and laughing her head off. When I saw myself get shot (That still doesn't make any sense.), there was no thinking involved, just pure rage.

Now, I don't get mad very often, but when I do, watch out! Call Mammal Control, mad fox! Little Nick goes down and before he can blink, I'm throwing myself at this so-called Officer Rhinovicz. After that, I don't have the time to feel anything. Rhinovicz sees me, and night-night, Nick.

"Look, Lieutenant, I can't explain it, no matter how hard I think about it, so please, sir, leave me be."

"Leave you be? Leave you be?! Like that's ever going to happen!"

"Hopps, please, cool it and try to see some sense here. As if that were actually possible."

"What was that?"

"What was what?" Curse those ears.

"You know what I'm talking about, Rhinovicz. But since you obviously don't get it, would you care for an explanation?"

"N-no, LT, y-you don't have to do that…"

"Oh, no? Sorry, but who's in charge here? Not you, that's for sure. Now sit down and shut up!"

"Yes, Ma'am!"

"That's better. Now, Officer, as I was going to say before I was so rudely interrupted- I take it, Officer, that you remember the escapades of the MM Gang, no doubt?"

"Yes, I do think, Lieutenant, that most everyone here does. Are you insinuating something, Hopps?"

"Oh, no, and besides, what could a poor little bunny like me do? We're just harmless little balls of fluff."

"I've worked with you too long to have to deal with your sarcasm, Hopps. Now, spill."

"Careful. Backtalking your commanding officer? Tsk, tsk, tsk. Well, back to the point. Those mongrels you brought in two weeks ago?"

"What about them, LT?"

"Clear the Most Wanted List, Officer, we've got them now."

"Lieutenant?"

"What is it?"

"I know you're not known for your sense of humor, but are you serious?"

"Deadly. The MM Gang, three scrappy teenage foxes, one little fox, two unidentified rabbits, one large and one small, and lastly, Nick Wilde and Jack Savage. The five younger ones, they're not why I'm perky. No, Officer, do you remember what I said I wanted to do in my graduation speech?"

"Make the world a better place."

"Make the world a better place. Which involves, of course, eradicating all the predators. I've never been able to count on your memory, Officer, and so I don't feel I can -and therefore won't- count on it now. So, here goes. Do you know why I hate predators? Don't answer that, it was rhetorical.

"But for everything, there is a root cause. My root cause, my drive- take a look at my cheek, Rhinovicz. Take a good long look. What do you see?"

"I don't see anything, Ma'am."

"Look closer," she said, brushing aside the fur on her left cheek. "See them now?" Under that patch of fur, there were three faint scars, thin white lines almost lost to time, but not quite. "Can you guess who did that to me?"

"Well, not exactly…"

She sighed. "The species, though? Could you at least tell me that?"

"A fox?" Rhinovicz ventured a guess.

"Ding, ding! He gets it! Spot on, Officer, it was a fox. His name was Gideon Grey. Emphasis on was. When I came home from the Carrot Days festival that afternoon and they saw me sniffling- yes, I have feelings- they were furious, so when they asked who had done it, I more than eagerly told them. I wasn't one for revenge before that, but now, that was all I wanted. 'Gideon Grey,' I told them. 'He knocked me down and did this, and Mom, it hurts.'

'Mom, it hurts.' When Bonnie Hopps heard that, she was furious. A few scrapes never hurt anyone, but someone clawing her oldest daughter? Watch out and get out of the way! Let me tell you, the expression 'Mad as a March hare' certainly applied there.

Now, Bunnyburrow isn't a lawless place by any stretch of the imagination, but with so many of us, there are bound to be more disputes than any police department can handle, so most troubles are solved between families. She went straight to the safe, grabbed a Colt .45, and headed over to the Greys' place. Luckily for her and not so much for him, Gideon himself answered the door. She yanked the pistol out, and Gideon went down.

When Mister and Mrs. Grey heard the shot, they came barrelling towards the door. Upon seeing their only son sprawled out on the ground with a red puddle around his head; a rabbit with a smoking gun in her hand standing over him, Bonnie Hopps went the same way as Gideon Grey. The Greys were sent to Alcatraz for mammalslaughter and sentenced to execution. They would have sent my mother to jail too, but seeing as she was dead, they couldn't very well do that.

My father, Stuart, was devastated. 'Madder than a March hare,' though it applied very well to my mother, applied perfectly to Stuart Hopps. When my mother didn't come home, my father went hunting for her and found her cold and stiff on the Grey's front stoop, slumped on top of Gideon's corpse. He blew his stack about as high as it could go, then promptly collapsed sobbing right there.

When he finally managed to gather himself together some ten hours later, his next step was to go straight to the ZPD, crying literal bloody murder. He was always more levelheaded than my mother, so, when they didn't help, instead of exacting revenge in my mother's fashion, he called on the mayor's office for a favor.

Lucius Savage was my father's best friend in high school, he had gone on to become a widely successful lawyer before running for Mayor and winning. He was always able to convince people to do what he wanted, and as it just so happened, he owed my father a favor. Collars, anyone?"

"That was his idea?"

"Yes. I said I wasn't into revenge, but my father, well, he was the opposite, and he got what he wanted."

"So, Lieutenant, one could say that this whole thing, our entire reality is your fault."

"One could indeed, and they'd be right. If I could've defended myself against Gideon, this would be a whole different world. In a way, I'm always curious what could have been."

"In that case, Hopps, why don't you go chat with those mammals we hauled in earlier. It was the oddest thing- one of them was claiming she was you."

"Did this rabbit have two eyes?"

"Then considering the fact that I was here all last night- Karma, that was a long shift- and only have one eye, I'd suggest that you commit her."

Rhinovicz sighed. "Just talk to her, Lieutenant."


	20. Part 20: Chapter 30

his is definitely not what I'd call a good series of events. First, I'm told by my middle-aged son that I killed myself, second, there's a crazy ewe after us, third, how the heck is this whole thing possible, and fourth, last, but most definitely not least- where am I?

Rhinovicz took a swing at Nick, a swing that sent him him sprawling to the floor, out cold. Seeing that, I charged him; everyone else followed suit, snarling and growling, biting down on the rhinoceros as hard as we could in an effort to save our hides, quite literally in this case. Though, as I'm coming to learn, this Bellwether ewe doesn't go down easily.

No ****, Furlock. That's obvious, just look at this mess! Me trying to save everyone- look what good that did us. Getting beaten senseless by a rhino. What a killjoy. And as if that wasn't bad enough, I can't just regain consciousness right side up, nooooo, I have to be chained to the ceiling upside-down! What fun! (I think you can see where my son gets his sense of sarcasm from.)

And to make matters worse, look who's coming, Lieutenant Hopps! Oh, crap. This isn't going to be pleasant.

"Well, well, look what we have here. Must've been a real rough party, huh?"

"Your sarcasm is duly noted, Hopps. Now, if you wouldn't mind-" I rattled the shackles holding me to the wall- "I'm getting somewhat light-headed here."

"Bad news, buster. You see, when an agent goes rogue, well, the ZIA tends to notice, so, Agent- or should I say ex-Agent-Wilde?"

"How the hell did you get that info? Savage had me fired over a decade ago, and I'm pretty sure only the Mayor is privy to those files. Now, are you going to let me down from here or not?"

"If you'll answer a question for me, Agent, maybe, just maybe, I'll consider that possibility. But consider this," she said, gesturing to her hip holster. "If the thought that you're lying to me comes even into the back of my mind, oh, ho, ho, it'll be obituary time. No, scratch that. It won't be. Did I mention how much I love fox pelts?"

"You're a sick psychopath, Hopps."

"I believe the correct term is 'high-functioning sociopath.'"

"No, that's Furlock. You're just nuts. Now...Let! Me! Down!"

"Maybe it's the dumb bunny in me, Agent Wilde, but I'd love to." She pulls her knife- oh, sweet cheese, that thing's huge- and points it at me. Then, with one quick flick of her wrist, severs the chains that hold me down from the wall, leaving me, well…

I'm not in the same cell as my dad, but I can still hear his words. I've been listening, straining my already battered sense of hearing to catch any noise in the block. It's been deathly silent for days. My stomach wouldn't stop growling for a week, but it's since gone silent. At least they're giving me water, I'm not sure about the rest.

What I am sure of is the fact that I'm locked in a six-by-eight concrete box with half-inch slats on the door that I've heard our jailers euphemistically call 'windows.' Windows? Ha! If those things are windows, I'm Robin Hood!

Hrm...Robin Hood. Say, there's an idea. But then I hear a few snippets of conversation: "...Agent Wilde, but I'd love to."

You know how when you go to the supermarket to buy some fruit, you check the melons by wrapping your knuckles against them, and if they're ripe, you hear this hollow thud? My father's head made for a perfectly ripe melon.

Foxes protect one another something fierce, and hearing the abuse my dad's been getting, all while being locked up in here.

Sweet Karma, what on Earth did I do to deserve this? But "Agent Wilde?" He can't mean my dad, can he? But then if not him, who else?

Foxes can't really howl, per se, but what they can do is whine. Normally, we try to keep it under control, but not now, not with all this!

I quit!

"So, Lieutenant Hopps, any progress?"

"None, Ma'am," I said. "Unfortunately for him, I suppose."

"You suppose correctly, Lieutenant. Hopps, do you know why you, and you alone, have earned my favor?"

"No, Mayor Bellwether, please, enlighten me."

"Gladly, my dear. You surely remember Gideon Grey."

"How could I forget, Mayor? He's the reason we're all here. I've wondered about that moment for years."

"Wondered what, Lieutenant? Not feeling any regrets, are we?"

"No, Mayor." I shook my head. I'll never let on, but I am. I've regretted that day ever since. If I slip up and show that I do care, you just have to look at the wall above her desk. Who knew a ewe could be so predatory?

Well, there's a saying here in the department. Whenever an officer is reprimanded, you'll always hear them mutter "Oh, mutton chops" before they report to the mayor's office. In this city, the police chiefs are only figureheads. Dawn Bellwether has the real power.

If an officer's 'crime,' per se, is serious enough (and it doesn't take much to be considered serious), that officer won't come back from the Mayor's, and she'll have a new wall ornament the next day. That's what she means by "favor." It means she won't have my head on her wall. In fact, I'm the only mammal to have survived more than a month in the ZPD.

"What was that, Lieutenant? I couldn't hear you..."

"No, Mayor!" I shouted. "Can you hear me now?"

"That's better, Hopps. Now listen up, and you'd sure as hell better make sure that you do this right, or you'll be muttering 'mutton chops' too. There's trouble brewing, trouble that's not my doing."

"I'm glad to know some of it's not."

"Knock the attitude, Hopps. I've let it fly for years, but I've finally had enough! At 0900 hours tomorrow, you are to report to the prison and collect the prisoners. You may not believe them, Hopps, but I've this sneaking suspicion that they're being honest."

"As you wish, Mayor Bellwether."

"Very good. Dismissed."

What could they know that Hopps doesn't? Well, I'm glad you asked.

See, here's the thing. You remember when I said that Wilde was going down at last?

But wait just a cotton-pickin' minute! Wasn't that from the other version of 2021?

Yes and no.

See, here's the thing. Yes, there are two 2021s, but there's only one little ol' me. Isn't that wonderful?

No? I thought you liked me. Oh, well. Just let me explain.

See, most mammals think they know how time works. Well, guess what- they don't. They think time's a straight line, unbending and unbreakable. It's not, as we all now know.

In both versions of the future, Zootopia has become, thanks to me, quite the opposite of what it once was. In the "original version," I was working behind the scenes. When Hopps and Wilde died, or at least, appeared to have died, that was the perfect time for me to step in. But of course, I had to get out first. That was the hardest part, and it was a piece of cake. First, I coded a virus into the system that overloaded the servers in a DOS attack. Don't ask me why Savage even let me onto the computers, he knows I majored in computer science.

I signed on as a computer tech- apparently, prisoners need jobs, and through oversight that I suspect was somehow purposeful, I managed to hack the system, request a day pass, and it was off to the barber's from there. I stole fur dye and gave myself a makeover.

Next, use the day pass, and don't show back up. Again, through some colossal oversight, I got away scot free. Money beckons to most Zootopian elected officials, not least of all the mayor, who, with a few hundred thousand zoolars, let me be "Mayor For The Day."

Scot free then, scot free now. But there came trouble, in the form of those blasted fuzzballs in blue, Nicholas Wilde and Judith Hopps.

If you'd told them three years ago that their simple request for time off would result in this mess, they'd laugh in your face. You see, Chief Bogo, of Precinct One, feels that vacation time, any at all, is unnecessary, and so he doesn't allow any. That policy, combined with six straight months of beat work, is enough to exhaust anyone. Cops for Precinct One work an average of 126 hours a week- 18 hours every day, all week. The rest of the city has a workweek that has a maximum of 75 hours a week.

Yeah, that's a bit much. As Mayor, I only worked the standard workweek of forty hours a week, so over three times that a week for just a beat cop? Yikes!

Well, when they put their plan into action, I made sure that their bullets were swapped for real ones. I don't think Savage realized what he was getting into, but I also don't think that he could have been underprepared at a better time.

So what's really going on here? I know it has something to do with the eldest Wilde child, Luke. He didn't go into the prison, and yet I saw him leave.

Whatever the case may be, from that point on, time split, both forward and backward, to allow for his existence at the 'correct' moment in time. From there, reality diverged, the path in which Luke was born overtaking the previous reality. Instead of Gideon Grey having scratched Judy, she managed to talk him down. She traded blow for blow, though, instead of the trouble ending there, with that one kick, Gideon made up for it in silent punishment, tripping her every time she went past him in the hallways. Such abuse, coupled with the fact that the school's administration did nothing to help her, drove her to pursue criminal justice for college.

Now, the universe needs to be balanced, and saving Judy, albeit, being tripped every day for the next nine years is a rough way to make up for it. However, in talking Gideon down, she also managed to do something no one else had been able to do before. Charles Grey, Gideon's father, was a big believer in the expression "you reap what you sow," only in a crooked way. He would wind the kid up, throwing jests at his son until poor Gideon snapped and came after him, then punish him for acting out. As his mama was dead, a car accident having claimed her life five years prior, hurt was the only world Gideon knew, and he took that hurt out on poor Judy.

So when Gideon was talked out of hurting Judith Hopps, he broke. He saw that he "didn't want to do this no more," as he put it. The culinary arts had always been a passion of his, and he turned to those with a passion, climbing the ladder out of podunk (not Podunk, that's in Deerbrooke County) little Bunnyburrow to become a renowned chef, owner of the fanciest restaurants in the city.

As I said before, the universe needs balance, and with all that extra pain that Gideon had left behind, that anger fell on someone else, or rather, several someones- Pack 914, Nick's Junior Ranger Scout group. You and I know the story of Nick being muzzled, and afterwards, giving up on mammality and becoming the con artist that Judy would sweep up off the street to chase after me, only at the time, they didn't know it was me that they were chasing.

Anyways, instead of that muzzling like you and I know, they beat the poor kit senseless and left him to die in the street, only living because his mother went looking for him when he didn't come home on time. But that beating beat something else out of that kit, too- his drive to fight. Not his fight, mind you. His fight, his desire to keep going, that turned into a raging bonfire after that night. But his desire to fight, for revenge, he just didn't have that in him anymore. What that desire once was metamorphosed into a desire for something else, something along the same lines but not quite the same. That angry flame flickered into a desire for justice instead.

He hadn't known what he wanted to do with himself, become a tailor like his father, perhaps. A tailor like his father, who, because Nick stayed in school, didn't become a druggie like before. And with his father's life, his mother never committed suicide in grief. Both parents lived, and their love only served to fuel his desire to, as Judy Hopps would put it some nine years later, "make the world a better place!" and in this kit's mind, what better way to do it than to pursue criminal justice?

This move would result in his rendezvous with a college-aged Judy Hopps over a decade later, a move that would result in the birth of their first son, Luke, while Judy was still in college. Nick may have been salutatorian of his class, but "foxes are the spawn of the devil," in society's eyes. As a result, Nick worked for his father's shop for three years, saving every cent in order to go.

This timeline, where Nick was successful in school, where he met Judy Hopps ahead of schedule, overtook the timeline where they met when Nick was a con artist. One little thing different, and a whole different world came out of it. Now, going the other way, when Judy was scratched- in the other future, Judy was knocked down by Gideon, Bonnie Hopps seriously overreacted, blowing the poor fox's brains out, along with those of his parents, too.

In this timeline, Judy became hell-bent on revenge in place of justice, becoming a cop all the same, but one feared by all for her wrath instead of loved by all for her heart.

Now, you're probably wondering how I know all this. I can see that thought in your head. Simple, really. When time doesn't flow like it should (like now), it's not too hard to travel through it. In fact, Luke did it with just baking soda and vinegar.

But wait up- I see something else. You're wondering how I, as the supposed villain of this tale, can understand my enemies.

Let's get something straight then. As I told John Wilde, I'm the low woman on the totem pole. Believe me, I don't call the shots. You want to know who does?

The Fates. The Three Fates are in charge here. Yes, the Celestials (Karma, Serendipity, and the like) can influence fate, but only the Three can decide it. The Celestials try to keep the fates under control, but I think I've forgotten to mention something. The Fates are foxes, always able to slip any binding. Bad news for us mortals when they do.

Looks like I have bad news then.


	21. Part 21: Chapter 31

Unknown Time, Unknown Place

"Sweet Karma, what am I going to do? What am I going to do? What, what, what?"

"You've only yourself to ask, Mayor. Though I must say, you've done a wonderful job of it so far. So, do we have a deal, Dawn?"

"As much as I hate this, Atropos, we do. You mind the Wildes there, I'll patch up on this end. Except…"

"Except what, Mayor? Not feeling any regret now, are we?"

"Oh, no, no, no, no, not at all, not at all."

"You don't seem convinced. Remember, you do this for me, you get your parents back. Is what I'm asking really such a price to pay?"

"I suppose not…"

"You suppose? Cretin! Be sure, never just suppose something! So, Dawn, are you absolutely certain this is what you want?"

"Absolutely."

"Very well, then." And with a flick of its paw, Dawn Bellwether was gone.

A day later, her obituary was in all the papers across the country, but like the disappearances of Wilde and Hopps, no body was to be found. There were those few who promptly read the news and forgot about it, there were those who thought the real story was yet to be told. Days, weeks, months, then years passed, until no one really thought there was any chance of her turning up- no, it had been far too long. But still, no one knew where she was- except Dawn herself.

Well, maybe, maybe not.

With a lurch, the previous week made sense. Foxes may be notorious in terms of catching colds, but stomach bugs? Not so much. A fifteen-year-old fox going a little too far with her boyfriend-turned-brother?

Yeah, that makes more sense. You, Electra, are-

"Bleaah! Ugh, that tastes nasty, Mom."

-pregnant.

"What's brought this on, honey, you were fine yesterday."

"If by fine you mean locked in a prison cell, yes, I'm fine."

"You've inherited your dad's sarcasm, I see. Look, honey, I know the outlook's bleak, but we have to keep going, keep trying, keep hoping."

"I would be a lot happier if I wasn't hunched over a toilet, vomiting up the little food I've eaten recently."

"I hope you haven't caught a cold. You haven't been licking your snout, have you?"

"Sweet Karma, no, Mom! Gross! No, I got a little carried away last week."

"Forgive me it I sound clueless, but do tell."

"I didn't know this would happen, didn't think this would happen, not with so little food as I've eaten. I thought it would stop. Luke was my boyfriend first, so, no, I wouldn't call it incest."

As those words, I watched her face drop. "You mean you're-"

I nodded, slowly. "Uh huh. Add to that the fact that foxes only rarely carry single kits, and I think it's safe to presume you're going to be a grandma of at least two soon."

She dropped her head into her paws. "Oh, sweet cheese and crackers. I thought bunnies were good at the whole 'teen pregnancy' thing. You know-," she was saying, but as for hearing her-nope…

"Uh- urgh- bleaah! That- urp- never gets more appealing…"

"And I don't suppose sitting in prison is helping any, now is it?"

"Not at -urp- all. Would you get a guard, please?"

"I'll try. You know, hon, you could get off your tail and use those hindpaws of yours."

"Yes, Mom, I'll try."

"You won't try, you'll do. No daughter of mine is going to be a bum."

"Just how did I get myself into this mess?"

"Luke! Just what did you do? Answer me, young man, or face the consequences. What? Did? You? Do?"

"I-I don't get it…don't look at me like that. What?"

"Here's what- in six weeks, you're going to be a dad. You know, when I called Nick a dumb fox, it was all just for fun. But now, son, I'm seriously wondering if there's anything up there. Is there? It sure doesn't seem like it, now does it?" With a huff, she stormed off.

I'm going to be a dad. That means Electra's pregnant? Oh, Sweet Karma, what are we going to do? What am I going to do?

Should have thought of that first, little one.

"Who- who's there?"

Don't you recognize me? There must always be balance. Follies beget trouble, didn't your parents ever teach you that?

"Y- yes, they did. Look, who are you, and what do you want with me? Please, don't hurt me!"

Silly mortal. I'm not here for vengeance upon you, I'm here to ask you a few questions.

"Silly mortal? What on Earth is that supposed to mean? And again, who are you?"

Just someone who needs your help.

"What kind of help…? I mean, there's not really much I can do stuck in here."

The universe needs balance, and it has failed to find it. What is it that you mammals call what kits sit on, one on either end, and bounce each other up and down? A teeter-totter, a seesaw, was it? So many of you, so many words for the same thing.

"Wait a sec- balance- you're Karma, aren't you? The fox goddess. But why are you talking to a poor, genetic freak of a fox?"

I see no one as a freak. And yes, while I may be known as the fox goddess, I was not originally so.

"No?"

No. It was the fourth Kitta, the high priest of the then-fledgling Zootopian Empire, who called me a fox goddess. From then on, that is what mammals knew me as, and so as time passed on, a fox goddess so I was.

"Are you actually a fox, though?"

Yes, and Luke, you look exactly like me.

"You're kidding. You have got to be pulling my tail."

I never kid, and now is especially not the time for that sort of frivolity. The Fates, they have slipped their bonds. Time, in its current state, is the perfect playground for the daughters of Gaea.

"It's sort of hard to be any sort of 'frivolous' when you've been locked in a cell for months, I'd say."

I can help with that.

"You've waited pretty effing long enough!"

"You're just like your mother, with that spunk of yours. Oh, and I sense trouble. You might want to get back to your mate.

"What do you mean, trouble?"

Electra is strong, but her body cannot handle strain in its current state. She will lose them.

"Lose them?"

Yes, lose them. But there is a way. I must warn you, young one, that you will need to hurry.

"What are you going to do, and what am I to do? Jails are a little hard to escape, you know. I only saw her for a day, and then I had to go back to my own cell, not alone, might I mention."

I've never had to escape anything, how would I know its difficulty? But yes, there is a way, and I can only take advantage of it because of the rift in time that Mister Savage caused.

"Go on…"

I can give a little push. Speed up the process a little."

Snap!

"What was that?"

Hurry, little one.

Drip. Drip. Drip.

"Uh, Mom…?"

"Yes, Electra?"

"This is going to sound crazy, but my water broke. Isn't that supposed to be a while? As in several months, a while?"

"What did you just say?"

"I said, my water broke. How I'm not freaking about that, I don't know, but I don't think this is natural," I said, my voice rising a few octaves and becoming shrill. "But what I do know is-ah! Aaahhh! Hee-whoo, hee-whoo, ow, ow, ow, OW!

"They're coming now, right now, right-right-right n-OW!"

"Are you sure? I pray you say no. Please say no."

"Yes, I'm- OW!- sure! What do I do?"

"Is there anything I can do to help?"

"Luke, help your sister, your mate, agh, I don't know, just help her. Help her!"

"Okay, sis, breathe. In through the nose, out through the mouth. Now, I won't look, but unless you want to have our kits in your underwear, it's going to need to come off."

"What?"

"Strip!"

"I can't-ow! Help me, please!"

"Okay, I'll help. Sit down. Down, Electra, quit clinging to the bars and sit, or you're going to pass out, I can see it in your face. Sit, please!"

"Oh-okay. Okay. Ow, ow, holy sheet, that hurts!"

"Sanitary mouth."

"Har, har."

"Mom, can you help me with this?"

"Yes, I can. Luke, you get her pants and shirt, I'll get her undergarments off."

"Okay, Electra, take my tail, and don't be afraid to pull."

Ten seconds later, two screams cut the air at once- Electra's, and mine, then came two tiny cries.

"Is it safe?"

"Yes, Luke, it's safe. It's safe, you have two lovely kits, and Electra's just fainted." I looked around me, expecting to see a mess all around, something. There was blood, but nothing else.

"How strange…"

I thought I'd deal you a good hand this round…

Even still, I hate blood.

Whump!

"Dumb fox."


	22. Chapter 22: Part 32

_I can't say I've always wanted to become a mother. Yes, that thought was looming there in my brain, so far away, yet still there. Karma only knows why I decided to do what I did with Luke. In the middle of a disease-ridden prison, no less. Mom called him a dumb fox- and not in the way that she usually does with Dad. I think she was seriously wondering if Luke had any brain cells left, and implying that she sure didn't think so…._

_But back to the topic at hand- I'm sitting in the infirmary ward- it's room C3 on floor 39. At least the view is decent…_

_...Well, except for the fact that the windows are hazy like a Seaotter sky. Although, in a way, I suppose that's a good thing, because if I could actually see out of them, I might very well be tempted to find something around here that's heavy enough and sturdy enough to shatter the glass and jump. At least I'd be out of this hellhole. Let's see, are there books?_

_Window (barred), door (locked), walls (padded), aha! A bookshelf! Well, at least I'm not chained to the bed, that's about the only consolation I've gotten. I fainted- can't say I've ever done that before, but then again, I couldn't say I'd ever been a mother before, either. And as soon as I become one, I just_ had _to go and faint._

_Smart move, Miss Stehlen._

_Or should I be saying Miss Wilde?_

_No clue._

_All I know right now is that the future's looking bleak, and I am pretty Karma-darned sick of staring at the same empty, white room. Well, almost empty, there's a bookshelf, and yes, it does have books. Let's see, what looks good? Ah,_ _Minkbeth_ _. A little odd, but it'll do me. Only thing is, when I open it up, the first thing I read is this-_

" _There would have been a time for such a word._

_Tomorrow, and tomorrow, and tomorrow,_

_Creeps in this petty pace from day to day_

_To the last syllable of recorded time,_

_And all our yesterdays have lighted fools_

_The way to dusty death. Out, out, brief candle!_

_Life's but a walking shadow, a poor player_

_That struts and frets his hour upon the stage_

_And then is heard no more: it is a tale_

_Told by an idiot, full of sound and fury,_

_Signifying nothing."_

_Nope, NOT what I was looking for. How about this one- it looks like an adaptation of Furcy Jackson. Odd books, those. He had this one called_ _Fearless Acorns_ _, don't ask. Anyways, his newest one is here-_ _Magnut Chase And The Sword of Sunburn_ _. Hmm, that sounds better. But again, nope!_

" _A cosmic yarn doth be spun long,_

_Enough for heroes sing their song._

_But hereby be warned,_

_And take this heed- Death_

_Doth come up'n fiery steed._

_Celestials' chains doth be wrought_

_So as to let nothing_

_Break them nought,_

_As time cannot rewind,_

_Of most mammals,_

_That is the thought._

_Remember this, forget it not, you I dare,_

_When one on the lam doth make to air._

_Of the mammals, air, land, and sea,_

_Those who can slip the chains_

_Are only three._

_A yarn's spinning wheel doth change direction,_

_So it can break, with enough conviction._

_When, in the cosmic sense,_

_A bribe one takes to make amends,_

_This is the key,_

_To release the first of three."_

_Yeah, no...but wait a sec...Oh, for Karma's sake, why does everything have to prophesize something?_

"Isn't that the way we work, darling?"

"And now I'm hearing things…"

"Yes, things that are actually there. Quit cursing me, Electra, what you say is most serious."

"Am I drugged? Because this sure as hell doesn't seem like any drug I've ever heard of."

"No drugs here, Electra, just a warning. That sly fox stereotype isn't for nothing."

"Oh, Sweet Celestials above, what just happened?"

_The last thing I remember is being knocked out by one of the guards._

"Well, lookee here, Jack, he's awake."

_No words for you there, bub._

"What, cat got your tongue,  _fox?_  You worthless devil. I would just shoot you here and now, but wiser heads prevailed."

"Count yourself lucky, Johnathan."

_Count myself lucky? I've been hanging from these chains for weeks, I get less than a cup of water a day, and a few crackers a to that regular thrashings by the guards, and if that's lucky, I don't want to hear what they're holding in reserve._

"Give up, Wilde. Then maybe we'll let you live.  _Or_ \- you can remain silent, and the cycle will continue. That, or tell us why you killed her parents."

"Whose parents? And as far as I can tell, that wasn't this reality, that was the  _real_ reality."

" The 'real' reality? Look, here, Johnathan, if you can't get it through your head, I haven't spent years on Mayor Bellwether's ranks to be fooled by the scum of the streets."

_Okay, that's it. I don't spend weeks chained upside down to be called 'the scum of the streets.' I'm not dying_ _**again** _ _._

"I don't care what you want or what you don't, LT. I don't give a flying f-"

"Ah, ah, language, foxy. Watch it, or you'll be out for good. Believe me, I  _always_  make good on my promises."

"I'm sure you do, but weren't you listening, bun-bun?"

As soon as those words passed my lips, I knew that I had made a colossal mistake. Even the Judy I knew would have likely tanned my hide for calling her a 'bun-bun.' But this eyepatch-wearing, battle-scarred rabbit before me…

I don't get scared very often, but boy, oh boy, this was a different situation.

"Mayor! Mayor! Mayor Bellwether!"

Bellwether turned to face the panicked ram that was rapidly approaching. "What is it, Capri? I thought I gave you explicit instructions to never interrupt a private meeting." She waved a paw at the fox seated in the chair across the table from her. "My apologies, sir, he doesn't understand much."

"I take no offense, Mayor Bellwether. I presume all is going well?"

"Yes, indeed, Atropos."

"My apologies, again, the most sincere apologies, but that isn't quite true anymore, Mayor."

"And just what," she said, eyebrows arched, "do you mean by that, Mister Kohrn?"

"Revolt, Ma'am. Sabotage from the inside."

"What?" Bellwether's eyes snapped wide open, fury burning bright behind them.

"Revolt, Ma'am. Code Red, Ma'am."

"Oh, dear." Atropos sighed disinterestedly. "See you later, then? Remember your promise."


	23. Chapter 23: Part 33

Okay, so here’s the rundown: as a kid, the “adults” don’t really expect you to be able to do much in the way of defending yourself, let alone mounting an escape attempt. Yeah, yeah, yeah. They’re about to be proven wrong.

 

Completely.

 

Okay, so here’s the rundown. Here I am, a fourteen-year-old mother of all things, and the views I’ve been treated to for the last two months have been nothing but moldy stone, cracked concrete, and the smell of vomit.

 

Oh, and don’t forget loneliness. That, and the gunshots. They’re like alarms here in Happytown. That’s right, we’re in Happytown. You know, not one in my life would I have thought this possible. Of course, I knew of predators’ plight back home (wherever _home_ is now), but I never in a million years would have thought that this pit of hell was actually possible, even with what I’ve gone through.

 

Then again, what’s the use in complaining? It’s not like it’s going to get me anywhere, and I got a good hand, I feel. Of course, it could be worse, and I know it is for my family- my parents (both sets), my brother and sister, my grandparents.

 

But the one thing that stays in my head is why? Why all of this, for a poor orphan girl fox? Being alone on the streets, that was nothing compared to the pain and worry right now. I hear Karma talking to me sometimes- heh, I bet I’m going nuts. In all honesty, I’ve lost track of the date, but I think- emphasis on _think_ \- it’s 2021. Who knows anymore?

 

Not me, that’s for sure.

 

* * *

 

“Okay, take two.”

 

“Now, Johnathan, what the hell is that supposed to mean?”

 

“Son, I don’t care whether you’re nine or thirty-nine, quit cussing!”

 

“How in hell is ‘hell’ cussing?”

 

“It is because I’m your father, and I say so, that’s why. Now, both of you, shut it. I have to tell you something important.”

 

_“Ooh, important, he says.”_

 

“Karma darn it, son, just shut the hell up and listen. At least the guards have turned us rightside- up.”

 

“Look, Dad, that’s really not important to me anymore. What is important to me is protecting lives, and jabbering isn’t going to do us any good, you know how the guards hate chatter. Besides, if you haven’t been paying attention, they’re not going to let us go. I mean, look at me- my teeth are yellow, my fur is falling out, and those are the least of my troubles. I’ve worse things to worry about, old man.”

 

“Wh-what?! Old man? You dare-?”

 

“Yeah, I do. Deal with it, Dad. Look, it’s true, and you know it is. Neither of us are as young as we used to be, even though as circumstance would have it, I’m ten years older than you. And it’s not just you who’s suffering, Dad. Look around us- we’re the ones who have it the best. Electra’s who knows where, Jet’s been muttering about looking for rope, and Luke’s started talking to himself, I’m nuts at both ages, Judy’s pulled her fur out... If we don’t go for it _now_ , there might not be any more time. Look, I know it’s rough, but…”

 

“Look, son, I get it, you know. I know what it feels like to have lost before you’ve even begun…”

 

“I don’t suppose a moldy, leaky prison cell, complete with tetanus-inducing shackles, is helping much, eh?”

 

“No, and you can’t give in, promise me that. Promise me.”

 

“I promise, Dad, with all my heart.”

 

“And I the same with all of mine. There’s a reason I’m on edge, you know, and it’s not because- well, not _just because-_ we’re stuck here. There’s a worse reason, one that digs deep and stings once and forever.”

 

“Mm-hrm. What’s that?”

 

“Did your mom ever tell you that you weren’t the first Wilde kit?”

 

“You guys were certainly something…” Then curiosity grabbed hold of me. “Wait, what do you mean I wasn’t the first Wilde kit?”

 

“Well, please pardon me. It hurts me greatly to tell this, but…” He sighed. “This is better for both of us….There was a reason I was after the Bellwethers that day, and it wasn’t just because they had supposedly committed crimes against the city. No, son, it was worse than that. Much worse than that….They killed my daughter.”

 

_Okay, I wasn’t expecting that sort of revelation. I had a sister? The Bellwethers killed her? What? When? Why? How? What, what, what?_

 

“Okay, Dad, hold it, please,” I said, paws trembling, despite my every attempt to stop them. _“Never let them see that they get to you. Never let them see that they get to you. Never-”_

 

“Son, calm down. Please, I beg you. Quiet yourself.”

 

“Calm down? Quiet myself?! No, Dad, I can’t, I won’t!”

 

“Please, Nicholas,” he said, using my full first name for the first time that I could remember. “The guards will shoot you. I’m not losing you, too, not with the way I lost your sister.”

 

“How….?”

 

“Gunshot...square to the head, courtesy of Mister Bellwether. She was two years old, Nick. Only two. Bellwether tried to break into my house because I had _supposedly_ taken confidential files from the ZIA.”

 

“Key word _supposedly._ ”

 

“Ex-actly, son, exactly. I go to work one day, expecting not necessary nothing to be okay, but maybe _not worse._ Anyways, that day was the day of the big meeting. I, as the Agency’s newest, had to go before the Board of Directors and explain to them who I was, what I did, and why I should be allowed to serve the Zootopian Government. Worst. Presentation. Ever. I actually heard them whispering about ‘sly, sneaky foxes,’ and ‘How’d he get here?’ ‘I bet he lied his way in.’ All this for a fox who was lying to his young mate about what he really did all day, and working government business as a teen. Yeah, a lot.

 

“Anyways, did I mention that that presentation was absolutely effing horrible? I did? Good. Worst. Effing. Day. Ever. Oh, and as you’ve probably have figured out, son, it only got worse from there. Yeah, baaaad day. At least I got my paycheck that day, and it turned out that that slip of paper gave me enough to pay off the last of the loans on the tailor’s shop that I also ran. Finally.

 

So I call up Marian to tell her the good news and invite her out to lunch, bring the kit along, please, hun?

 

She does, and two things happen simultaneously. One, the Aries Gang (of which the Bellwethers were heads) comes barreling down the street; two, oh, sweet Karma, it was Bring Your Kit To Work Day for her, and she brought the kit! Run, run, run as fast as you can for cover. Only thing is, there’s not enough cover for the both of them, and little Emily gets caught in the crossfire.

 

There was no hope for her- blood, bones, fur all over the pavement and all over Marian. No hope at all. Her funeral was a ten-minute affair, then they just threw her body in the sewer. No proper burial, because “Why waste a proper burial on devil-spawn?”

 

So Nick, there’s your story. No tears from me, I can no longer cry- no water, and I’m too close to breaking as it is to let even a mite of my resolve go. I slip, and I’m gone. You guys all need me, I can’t die yet.”

 

“Funny thing is, guys…,” a deep voice came from the passageway adjacent to our cell- “I’ve orders from up on high.”

 

“Oh?”

 

“They’re to shoot you, here and now.”

 

_Oh, crap._


	24. Chapter 24: Part 34

Okay, so here’s the rundown: as a kid, the “adults” don’t really expect you to be able to do much in the way of defending yourself, let alone mounting an escape attempt. Yeah, yeah, yeah. They’re about to be proven wrong.

 

Completely.

 

Okay, so here’s the rundown. Here I am, a fourteen-year-old mother of all things, and the views I’ve been treated to for the last two months have been nothing but moldy stone, cracked concrete, and the smell of vomit.

 

Oh, and don’t forget loneliness. That, and the gunshots. They’re like alarms here in Happytown. That’s right, we’re in Happytown. You know, not one in my life would I have thought this possible. Of course, I knew of predators’ plight back home (wherever _home_ is now), but I never in a million years would have thought that this pit of hell was actually possible, even with what I’ve gone through.

 

Then again, what’s the use in complaining? It’s not like it’s going to get me anywhere, and I got a good hand, I feel. Of course, it could be worse, and I know it is for my family- my parents (both sets), my brother and sister, my grandparents.

 

But the one thing that stays in my head is why? Why all of this, for a poor orphan girl fox? Being alone on the streets, that was nothing compared to the pain and worry right now. I hear Karma talking to me sometimes- heh, I bet I’m going nuts. In all honesty, I’ve lost track of the date, but I think- emphasis on _think_ \- it’s 2021. Who knows anymore?

 

Not me, that’s for sure.

“Okay, take two.”

 

“Now, Johnathan, what the hell is that supposed to mean?”

 

“Son, I don’t care whether you’re nine or thirty-nine, quit cussing!”

 

“How in hell is ‘hell’ cussing?”

 

“It is because I’m your father, and I say so, that’s why. Now, both of you, shut it. I have to tell you something important.”

 

_“Ooh, important, he says.”_

 

“Karma darn it, son, just shut the hell up and listen. At least the guards have turned us rightside- up.”

 

“Look, Dad, that’s really not important to me anymore. What is important to me is protecting lives, and jabbering isn’t going to do us any good, you know how the guards hate chatter. Besides, if you haven’t been paying attention, they’re not going to let us go. I mean, look at me- my teeth are yellow, my fur is falling out, and those are the least of my troubles. I’ve worse things to worry about, old man.”

 

“Wh-what?! Old man? You dare-?”

 

“Yeah, I do. Deal with it, Dad. Look, it’s true, and you know it is. Neither of us are as young as we used to be, even though as circumstance would have it, I’m ten years older than you. And it’s not just you who’s suffering, Dad. Look around us- we’re the ones who have it the best. Electra’s who knows where, Jet’s been muttering about looking for rope, and Luke’s started talking to himself, I’m nuts at both ages, Judy’s pulled her fur out... If we don’t go for it _now_ , there might not be any more time. Look, I know it’s rough, but…”

 

“Look, son, I get it, you know. I know what it feels like to have lost before you’ve even begun…”

 

“I don’t suppose a moldy, leaky prison cell, complete with tetanus-inducing shackles, is helping much, eh?”

 

“No, and you can’t give in, promise me that. Promise me.”

 

“I promise, Dad, with all my heart.”

 

“And I the same with all of mine. There’s a reason I’m on edge, you know, and it’s not because- well, not _just because-_ we’re stuck here. There’s a worse reason, one that digs deep and stings once and forever.”

 

“Mm-hrm. What’s that?”

 

“Did your mom ever tell you that you weren’t the first Wilde kit?”

 

“You guys were certainly something…” Then curiosity grabbed hold of me. “Wait, what do you mean I wasn’t the first Wilde kit?”

 

“Well, please pardon me. It hurts me greatly to tell this, but…” He sighed. “This is better for both of us….There was a reason I was after the Bellwethers that day, and it wasn’t just because they had supposedly committed crimes against the city. No, son, it was worse than that. Much worse than that….They killed my daughter.”

 

_Okay, I wasn’t expecting that sort of revelation. I had a sister? The Bellwethers killed her? What? When? Why? How? What, what, what?_

 

“Okay, Dad, hold it, please,” I said, paws trembling, despite my every attempt to stop them. _“Never let them see that they get to you. Never let them see that they get to you. Never-”_

 

“Son, calm down. Please, I beg you. Quiet yourself.”

 

“Calm down? Quiet myself?! No, Dad, I can’t, I won’t!”

 

“Please, Nicholas,” he said, using my full first name for the first time that I could remember. “The guards will shoot you. I’m not losing you, too, not with the way I lost your sister.”

 

“How….?”

 

“Gunshot...square to the head, courtesy of Mister Bellwether. She was two years old, Nick. Only two. Bellwether tried to break into my house because I had _supposedly_ taken confidential files from the ZIA.”

 

“Key word _supposedly._ ”

 

“Ex-actly, son, exactly. I go to work one day, expecting not necessary nothing to be okay, but maybe _not worse._ Anyways, that day was the day of the big meeting. I, as the Agency’s newest, had to go before the Board of Directors and explain to them who I was, what I did, and why I should be allowed to serve the Zootopian Government. Worst. Presentation. Ever. I actually heard them whispering about ‘sly, sneaky foxes,’ and ‘How’d he get here?’ ‘I bet he lied his way in.’ All this for a fox who was lying to his young mate about what he really did all day, and working government business as a teen. Yeah, a lot.

 

“Anyways, did I mention that that presentation was absolutely effing horrible? I did? Good. Worst. Effing. Day. Ever. Oh, and as you’ve probably have figured out, son, it only got worse from there. Yeah, baaaad day. At least I got my paycheck that day, and it turned out that that slip of paper gave me enough to pay off the last of the loans on the tailor’s shop that I also ran. Finally.

 

So I call up Marian to tell her the good news and invite her out to lunch, bring the kit along, please, hun?

 

She does, and two things happen simultaneously. One, the Aries Gang (of which the Bellwethers were heads) comes barreling down the street; two, oh, sweet Karma, it was Bring Your Kit To Work Day for her, and she brought the kit! Run, run, run as fast as you can for cover. Only thing is, there’s not enough cover for the both of them, and little Emily gets caught in the crossfire.

 

There was no hope for her- blood, bones, fur all over the pavement and all over Marian. No hope at all. Her funeral was a ten-minute affair, then they just threw her body in the sewer. No proper burial, because “Why waste a proper burial on devil-spawn?”

 

So Nick, there’s your story. No tears from me, I can no longer cry- no water, and I’m too close to breaking as it is to let even a mite of my resolve go. I slip, and I’m gone. You guys all need me, I can’t die yet.”

 

“Funny thing is, guys…,” a deep voice came from the passageway adjacent to our cell- “I’ve orders from up on high.”

 

“Oh?”

 

“They’re to shoot you, here and now.”

 

_Oh, crap._


	25. Part 25: Chapter 35

I’ve never had an easy life, and I wasn’t really expecting it to get any easier when we got sent to this place, either. I wasn’t expecting the pain, the loneliness, none of that. Well, scratch that, in a way I was, I just didn’t know that the pain that I had been feeling for my entire life could have gotten any worse, and what I was expecting even less than that was to become a teenaged mother of twins, and then to pass out and wake up with my son and daughter older than I am. It just seems to be a byproduct of this crazy system, a system which is slated to kill my grandfather in…

 

Oh, sh-four minutes!

 

“Well, this is just wonderful.”

 

“Yes, it is, and unfortunately for you, Electra, I can’t do anything about that little detail.”

 

“Karma, get the hell out of my head! I’ve had enough! You’ve been nothing but trouble, now leave me alone!”

 

She sighed, saying, “I’m sorry I haven’t been of any help to you-”

 

“Darn straight you haven’t been! This life I’m living, Mom, Dad, _any_ of us are living, it’s just ridiculous, and I’ve had enough. Where’s a knife?” No one answered me. They all seemed to be in too much shock. Would she do it? Really? I could see it in their faces, and I could hear it in Karma’s protestations, steadily growing in pitch and frequency above my head, pleading with me, begging me not to do it.

 

“Whoa, whoa, calm down, let’s not be too hasty here, just relax. It’ll be fine,” Karma told me, obviously panicking, thinking the worst. Well, I seem to have adopted some of my adoptive Dad’s traits. She thinks she knows what’s coming- another dead and bloody fox, done in by their own paw, but she’s got something else coming! If a trick is what it’s going to take to get me out of this Karma-forsaken hellhole (No apologies for that from me, you useless sack of fur!), then that’s exactly what I’m going to use. So what if they think I’m a psychopath? That’s what being chained to one’s bed twenty-three hours out of the twenty-four  in the day for endless months will do to you, and I would know.

 

“Look, Karma,” I said, baring my teeth in the fiercest way I could, trying to scare her away, the- _ooh,_ you know what, I won’t say it. Nope, not going to happen. I’m a better fox than that.

 

“Nobody else can see you or even hear you here, so they all think I’m nuts, and you know what? I am. I am crazy after spending endless months in a cold, damp stone cell with a pittance of food daily, but am I crazy to do what you were thinking that I’m about to? No, no I am not. What am am is hell-bent on escaping, got that?”

 

“Yes, I do. Now go on, save him.” With that, she was gone, and the guard and my kits were staring at me with wide-muzzled shock. “What in the blazes was that, lady?”

 

“None of your business.” With that, we turned down the hallways and began our march. We got there just in time to see the guards pull their triggers on my grandfather, the bullets shooting out his back like bloody streamers, then he crumpled to the ground, gone.

 

“No. No. No. It can’t be. Dad. Dad, wake up, please. I’m begging you, don’t leave me, I need you! Noooo!” I could hear _my_ dad’s shouting all the way across the courtyard, a courtyard that was enormous, yet today was filled with hushed mammals, all whispering amongst themselves, all whispering about my dead grandfather.

 

“Come on, missy, let’s go,” the guard said, shoving me along as fast as he could make my sore legs travel, my paws threatening to give out and Vega and Leto peeking out at me from over his shoulder. “Kiss him goodbye, you little-” I know he said more, and I can guess what it was, but I didn’t hear it. I was too busy sprinting as fast as my paws could carry me, hoping that I didn’t trip over my tail, which I’d always found too long, and skidding to a stop right before his body, blood pooled all around, eyes glazed, rigor mortis not yet set in.

 

“No, no, Grampa, no, no, not yet, no, no, no! No, He can’t be gone, no!” Grief overwhelmed me, dropping me to my knees, my head resting on his bloody one. Then I got back to my feet, no longer filled with sadness, no, that feeling was replaced with a burning resolve, and that resolve mixed itself with anger. Anger that I couldn’t stop this whole mess, anger that my grandfather was dead, a product of a cruel system; anger that I was treated like I was worth less than dirt, and anger that I couldn’t live to see if there was ever change in this system.

 

But wait just a cotton-pickin’ minute! Why not?

 

Wait a sec, you’ll see.

 

“If he dies, then I die too,” I said. “I’m here because of his son, I’ll leave with him.”

 

“Count me in,” Jack said.

 

“Add me on. If they go, I do too.”

 

“Nick, my dumb fox, death won’t be parting us here, it’ll keep us together. I’m with them.”

 

One by one, my family stood, arms locked, determination on their faces-

 

Mom, Dad, Grandpa and Grandma Hopps, young Mom and young Dad, Jack, Luke, Jet, Grandma Wilde…

 

Then they said one last thing, in unison- “If they die, then we die too!”

 

The guards called out, more likely in fear than anything else. “Are you sure?”

 

Again, all of our voices came out as one. “Absolutely!”

 

“As you wish,” the executioner said, then sharp bursts of pain flared through my chest. _Goodbye, world, I won’t miss_ you _any._ Then blackness surrounded me, and I was no more.


	26. Part 26: Chapter 36

Okay, so when one is shot so many times that they lose count, they're typically expecting to die because of that, right? I know that I sure as hell was. I could've sworn I was, why can't I be?

Okay, don't answer that. Just a note to all of you who think that dying is easy, you all have one heck of a lesson to learn, because I'm not! Darn it, darn it, darn it, I just want to get the hell out of here, so Why? Can't? I?

Yeah, I'm crazy. So what? To be willing to deal with all of this certainly takes a bit of insanity, I think.

But seriously, people, just end the drama already. I'm dead. There, at least one thing's for certain, so then why do I feel cold stone beneath my paws?

"Electra! Electra, wake up!"

_I thought you could hear if you were dead. Wait a second. That means I'm not dead? Screw you, Karma, leave me be! I'm warning you…_

_**And**_ **I'm**   _ **warning you. Wake up, Electra, it isn't what you're expecting, I can promise you that, at least.**_

"Believe me, I can tell you one thing of my own, lady. I can believe just about anything right about now…"

Then the voice continues, ever more annoying, and coupled with another. "Mo-om! Mom! MOM!"

"Ugh, what? I'm not dead? Or am I, and this is just some crazy afterlife?"

"Dead? What? No, come on, it's your birthday, don't you remember?"

"What?"

_**Look down, Electra.** _

I do as I'm told, and I feel dizzy. It seems I'm not dead. No, I'm exactly the opposite, and why the hey am I suddenly so high off the ground? And everyone's here? And alive?

"Okay, everyone, is this some crazy dream? 'Cause I thought that I was dead…."

"Dead? No, Mom, are you okay?" Vega looks at me quizzically, her head cocked sideways as I imagine mine is right now as well.

"I'm not exactly sure. H-how old am I?"

"How old are you? That's a silly question to ask, Mom." Then she winks at me, and says in a whisper, "Twenty-eight today. Dad's twenty-nine. Both of the younger versions of Grandma and Grandpa are as old as we are- sixteen, apparently. Oh, and I've asked around- Looks like Grandma and Grandpa, plus Dad, us, and Aunt Jet- we're the only ones who seem to remember all of this mess. All of the others can't remember dying. They just remember waking up here, and they can't explain it. Believe me, I've tried asking them, but it hasn't worked. They can't remember a single darn thing."

"What else do I need to know?"

"Other than the fact that it's 2021 right now, and everyone's looking at us like we're insane? Look at your left paw."

I do, and on my ring finger, there is a gold band, set with a strip of sapphire, and another one set with a jade and a sapphire. "What are these?"

"I'll let you in on a little something. You're married- to Dad, of course, and have been for fifteen years. Zootopia's a mess, with Mayor Bellwether in power, but she hasn't started acting crazy yet. Mom and Dad just solved the Night Howler case together five years back.  _They've_  been married for twenty years now, 'cause they fell head over heels for each other when they met in college and got married in '00. They had Jet a year later, adopted you with him, and we were adopted six years after that, apparently. You met Luke at school and fell for him, just like they did for each other, and well, now you're married? I don't know, none of this makes sense, but for whatever reason, that's how they remember it, Mom."

"A wife and sister at thirteen. Well, that's not too far off from the actual history, but how…?"

"You're asking the wrong mammal, mother mine, the wrong mammal entirely. Come on, we have to cut the cake!"

I do, my mind in a blur, trying not to let my paws tremble as I cut the cake, listening to the mammals around me wish me a happy twenty-eighth birthday.

Well, I'd better serve up the slices.

* * *

"Why can't you get me results, Mayor? I've put you exactly where you need to be to take care of them, and with all the timelines collapsed to this solitary one, what is it going to take you to get yourself to kill them already? Remember, you do this for me, you get what you've lost. Not just that, my dear friend, but you swore that you would do it."

_I'm alone here, and trapped with a crazy wolf that's hell-bent on exacting revenge. I know this is all my fault, but just what am I supposed to do? I may be mayor, but Lionheart- how I hate him for what he did to me when he was mayor- well, he may be rotting away in jail, but what do you know, he still has quite a bit of sway over the common people, and he's making this whole thing rather difficult._

_I know this whole thing is hopeless, and I'd take it back, all of it, if I could, but that timeline doesn't exist anymore. I'm trapped, and I don't want to be food. But just what am I supposed to do? I didn't do any of this for me, not one bit. I only agreed to this whole crazy scheme because I was promised a chance to see my parents again, parents who, need I remind anyone, died at Johnathan Wilde's paws._

_What am I supposed to do?_

_Well, I guess then that there's really only one thing I can do…_

_I turn to my guards. They're not stupid, but they're certainly disposable, and they're more than willing to do as they're told, so if what they're told to do is to do away with the Wildes, then the Wildes will be done away with._

_Better make that official, then._

"Find the Wildes. Bring them to my feet. Then do as you wish with them. Make them pay for what they've done." No one reacts. "What, are you dumb-dumbs deaf? Find the Wildes and Kill! Them!

* * *

"Karma, I take it that you've heard what Mayor Bellwether is planning?"

"Yes, Destiny, I have, but what are we to do? I've already interfered enough- aged them so that they could fight, given them warnings, and they still have yet to learn anything."

"Well, that's what happens when you wipe their memory, isn't it, Order?"

"I suppose it is, isn't it?"

"So then, what do we do now?"

"Who says we have to do anything? Let them learn, let them suffer."


	27. Chapter 27

"Come on, Mom! We have to cut the cake!"

I don't understand any of this, and nor can I really try to pretend to. Could anyone truly do it? Especially when you've been told that you're the one of the only ones in your family that can remember the crap that they've had to go through? I also get the feeling that Bellwether and her goons are going to be more than happy to come get us. Honestly, it wouldn't surprise me to find them barging through the doors within the hour.

I suppose that that's a reasonable assumption, considering that the last time we got warped through time, she found us within the day. Then again, I wasn't this old, either, and nor did everyone get their memories wiped. I can't help but wonder why it happened this one time, then. This whole thing isn't funny, Karma!

Look, I understand that the Celestials probably want to strike be down for all the times that I've cursed out Karma, but what can I do? I mean, she's supposed to protect us canids, but instead, she throws us to the winds and wiles of a mad sheep? How is that fair? I mean, I'm doing all I can here…

_Oh, really, you are? Try not cursing us out, dear._

_Maybe I'd consider that if you would leave us alone_ , I think.

_Then maybe you and your family could learn that everything here is done with a purpose. We do not do such things without an intended purpose._

_Really? Prove it._

As if on cue (and I suppose it is), the house line rings. Even stranger, no one moves a muscle to answer it, as if they don't hear it. I wait several seconds more, and even still, no one goes for the phone. "Okay, this is strange...Can no one hear the phone, or what?"

_Riiing...riing...riing…_

Still nothing. I look around the room from top to bottom, taking in the way the sun doesn't really seem to shine anywhere in here, even though there are two large glass patio doors and a window on every wall. I can see the yellow walls of the living room through the nearest one, and I notice something. There's a clock on the wall over there, but it looks like it's stopped.

Deciding to tune out the ringing of the phone for a minute and hoping that who or whatever is on the other end of the line will be so kind as to wait. I walk through the archway that connects the kitchen and dining room to the living room, paying particular attention to how the floorboards creak under my paws and the cold breeze that's coming through the open window in the living room, the curtains swirling inwards.

 _Weird,_  I think.  _This just keeps getting wackier and wackier._ As I'm thinking that, taking slow shuffle-steps forwards, I feel a hot lance of pain in my right footpaw, and I yelp.

"Ow, ow, ow, ow….," I say, letting a soft whine slip my throat and all of a sudden, I feel tears welling in my eyes. That's not like me. Honestly, I can't remember the last time I cried. I sink to my haunches, tail wrapping around my legs, ears pressed flat to my skull and and doing their hardest to stay there. It's then that I feel another cold draft in the room, and it don't feel like it's coming from the open window, although the rain that  _is_  coming through is soaking my fur and making my clothes cling to my thin self.

I turn around, wondering where the new breeze is coming from, and I notice that the phone isn't ringing anymore. In place of that sound is the sound of floorboards creaking, and I notice something that surprises me- there's somemammal walking down the rooms. It looks like whoever it is is a fox, and for a split second I wonder why Jet has glowing amber eyes. Then it hits me, and my mind screams at me to run, run, run, run like the cowardly vixen I am. Then the creature speaks, except it doesn't. I hear it saying words, but its mouth isn't moving.

"Well, since you didn't answer my call, Electra, I think we're going to do this the hard way." The creature rushes me, and before I have time to react, pins me to the floor and bears her teeth in my face.

"Well, well, well," the creature says, and I can see that whoever it is is a fox. Then the gears in my brain start to work, and then I realize where I've heard it before- in my head.

_Oh, sh*t!_

"Ah, yes," the fox says, and this time the words are actually spoken, I know who you are. Oh, yes, you're that insolent little pest who keeps cursing me out. I may be the Celestial of fortune, but that doesn't mean that I have to bring good fortune, oh, no, that's not it at all. If I really want to, I can torment them. You in particular, you're an interesting case. You pray that we Celestials will save you, yet you curse me out whenever something goes wrong, as if it's all my fault."

She snarls at that, and I can see the flame in her eyes glow brighter, as if somebody poured on some kerosene. "Here's what I want to know, dear Electra- if I were to send you back to before your parents died, would you choose the same path? If you could have saved them, would you have, even if you knew that you would never have met Nick or Judy? That Vega and Leto wouldn't exist? Are those lives worth your parents? Choose your words carefully.  _Very_  carefully, because if you don't, well, let's just say that I keep my teeth very sharp, and I will make sure that you never come back. Consider that, Electra, and consider this, also- if you were to save your parents, who would now die? I hope that I don't have to choose for you..." Then, before I can react, Karma puts her teeth around my neck, the tips of her razor-sharp fangs touching my jugular vein and clamping softly around my throat.

_So what now, Electra? Why couldn't you have listened?_

I don't know what I'm going to do here. If I move, Karma's fangs will slice my throat, and if I don't say anything, well, it'll be the same outcome.

_Well?_

_Well,_  I think,  _I couldn't have been here without your help, that's certainly a given. I thought that we had been abandoned, and we were helpless. You've seen what Bellwether is capable of? Why don't you just give it to her and fix this crap?_

 _How many times,_  Karma's voice echoes in my mind,  _do I have to tell you foxes before you get it through your heads? This has gone too far. I cannot fix the situation. It is too complicated, and Celestials aren't much for negotiation._

 _What does that mean?_  I wonder.

_It means that the situation is up to you. Your relatives can do nothing for you. I am tasking you with solving this, Electra._

_What?! Why?_

_Because you have angered me. You must learn something, Electra…_

_What's that?_

In place of an answer, I hear a thundercrack. Wincing, I close my eyes, but no pain comes. Instead, I open my eyes and see that I'm floating above two sheep, both cowering in a corner, holding up their hooves in self-defense. For a split second I wonder why, then I notice that there's a fox with a gun drawn on them, his other paw holding a badge. Before I can form a thought, the unnamed fox fires two shots, one at each sheep, and both drop dead, blood pooling on the worn pavement beneath them.

 _So now you see,_  Karma muses.  _Solve this, Electra,_  she says, and with a flick of her paw, the world goes black.

* * *

The first thing I see when my eyes flit open is that I'm lying muzzle down on a cold tile floor, and it looks like I've dropped a stack of files. Opening my eyes farther, I notice that it looks like I'm in the front lobby of Precinct One, but instead of everything being bright like I've pictured, based on what Mom and Dad have told told me, everything is instead painted varying shades of muted industrial gray.

It's then that I hear a ragged voice from above me, and I see a predator with a- wait a second, is that a collar? It's then that I notice that I seem to be wearing one, too. I give it a quick tug, and in return I get a sharp shock. "Ow!" Then the stupid thing shocks me again, and I go to cry out again, but the mammal who came to help me presses a finger to my lips.

"Shhh," he says. "If you cry out, it'll only shock worse. You should be thankful you have a less powerful version, Madam Secretary. Here, let me help you with those files." He gathers up the papers that I seem to have spilled and gives me a helping paw up. It's then that I notice that he has a nameplate, which reads 'Clawhauser.'

"Thank you, Mister Clawhauser," I say.

"No, thank  _you_ , Madame Secretary," he mumbles, "for not hurting me. The last time I tried to help someone when they fell, they reported me, and now my rations are a quarter of the size they used to be…"

"Why would I report you? What's the matter?"

"Mayor Bellwether's the matter," he whispers into my ear, and as he slaps a paw across his muzzle, I mentally slap myself for being so forgetful. How could I? I don't know if that's really possible, I guess I just got caught up in the moment. I snap myself back to reality, if that's what this is, just as Clawhauser whispers in my ear again.

"I know I shouldn't have said that to Mayor Bellwether's personal secretary. Please don't tell on me, please?" He looks terrified, and I get it, I really do. I've been running from the madmammal who's in charge here for as long as I can remember. What I don't understand, though, is why he's calling me Bellwether's secretary. I have the sneaking feeling that it has to do with the fact that Karma keeps playing with things. That leaves one last question: why here?

I think about that for a second and come up empty, and then I don't have to think about it anymore, as the department's front doors slam open with a harsh bang and a diminutive ewe enters, flanked by two ram bodyguards. Clauhauser suddenly jerks up perfectly straightly and salutes, and I realize that I should probably be doing the same thing.

"Clauhauser, hand her back those files," the sheep who used to be Dawn Bellwether says. I'm not quite sure what she is anymore, other than a lunatic.

"Yes, Ma'am," Clauhauser says, handing the stack out to me. I take it, and face the Mayor, wondering what the best way would be to do away with her.

"Ah, Electra, she says warmly, though I can see that the smile is somewhat forced. "I'm so glad that you were willing to work with me. Your family didn't want to. I guess they'll just have to wait until they starve, maybe then they'll be free. They have been waiting for six weeks. I wonder when they'll break. Oh well, I guess. Follow me," she says, striding across the lobby and down the stairs to the boiler room.

Downstairs, I notice that other than being unbearably warm, there are several sets of shackles and cots. I get the feeling that this is where Clawhauser now spends his off-time.

"Come on," she says, hoof tapping impatiently. "I have something to show you," she remarks, gesturing with her left hoofhand to several telephone booths. They remind me of Doctor Zoo, but I get the feeling that that's not really what they're meant for. "What do you think?"

"I-I'm not sure, Mayor," I stutter, mind sprinting for an answer and coming up with appeasement. "They look fantastic, ma'am."

"Thank you," Mayor Bellwether says, and she seems genuinely pleased. "I'm pleased that you like them. Revenge will be mine. After all these years waiting to see my parents again- parents who your grandfather shot in cold blood, mind you- I'll finally manage it, and Wilde will pay for what he did."

 _Well, now what?_  I ask myself, taking a few seconds to stop and think. "What are they?" I ask, although I know exactly what they are, they got me into this mess.

"I think you know, Electra," she says, walking over to the main control station in the middle of the room. "Now quit yapping, and help me turn them on."

_Now what? Yeah, that's a good question. Try not to get yourself killed first, Electra dear._


	28. Chapter 28: Part 38

"Now, quit yapping, and help me turn them on." That's the order I'm given, and I can I do it, in good conscience?

Oh, who am I kidding? That answer should be obvious- one resounding "flock no!" But here's my dilemma: I'm a twenty-something vixen who can't help but wonder what she ever did to get herself into this mess, and all I want to do is solve it, but the madmammal behind all of this just asked me to help me turn her machines on so that way she can further corrupt the past and bend it to fit her schemes, so here's the question:

What the hell am I supposed to do? I can't see myself doing it, turning those machines on, but-

"What's taking you so long, Electra? Did you finally lose all the sense you have, or are you just deaf? Pull the levers and turn those machines on!"

"Or what?" I ask, my lips drawn back in a snarl. I notice that instead of flinching in fear, like any sane prey mammal would do at the sight of an angry vixen, the angry light in Mayor Bellwether's eyes hardens into grim determination, as well as poorly-suppressed fury.

"Or," she says, grabbing something metal from behind her, "you'll learn to listen, bitch. I don't give a damn about you or your family, and I give even less of a damn about your pathetic existence, Electra, so you  _will_  listen, or I'll make sure that you have some very 'fun times' soon, and I'll drag your mate and kits out of their cells to watch. Got that?" With that, she spits in my face, and it takes all of the self-control I have left in my beat body not to lash out at her.

Not wanting to even consider that idea, I fold. I never would have considered myself that kind of mammal, but I want even less to consider my other possibilities.

"Yes, Ma'am," I say, wrapping my tail around my legs to protect them from the sudden drafts that have started to seep through the room.

"That's what I thought, Electra dear," Bellwether says. "Now do as you've been told, or I'll make sure to use  _this_ ," she says, holding up a thin black remote. At that, I gulp, and the cold weight of the metal around my neck starts to sink back in. I'm nearly dead as it is- having two kits and being malnourished at the same time will take all the strength out of a mammal. I lift one shaking rust-re. d paw to the controls and pull the lever down. Trying to blot out the pain I feel everywhere, I move along to the next one and turn it on, but as I move to turn the third on, my legs give out and I stumble to the floor.

I don't have any time to react- my body is too tired to move anymore, and I can feel the hot lance of pain as my wrist snaps beneath me, sending me sprawling out, but guess who doesn't care?

"Get up, you worthless sack of fur!" Bellwether shouts, but as I said, I don't have any strength left, and there's no way in hell that I'm moving. She can put a slug through me for all I care, but then she won't be able to force me to do any more of her dirty work. No, that's not going to happen. If I die here. Then I'm more than willing to face my fate.

"You know," Bellwether chuckles, kneeling down beside me, "I never would have thought that a vixen who'd put on such a show of bravery would be so weak. It looks like we're going to have to do this the hard way," she says, slapping her hoof into the side of my muzzle. A lot lance of pain shoots up, and I spit, noticing the tooth that comes out in a pool of blood. "I guess," she continues, grinning maniacally, "that we're just going to have to see how long you can survive in the dungeons without any food. Maybe you'll even be able to say some final goodbyes. How's that sound?"

"It sounds," I say, trying to push myself up only to have my wrists give out, and this time, I can see the white tips of bone through my fur, and I hate myself for it, but I can feel tears start to come.

"Aww," Bellwether says, clasping her hooves under her chin and batting her eyelashes like an embarrassed schoolgirl. "Is the poor foxy beat? I'm sowwy, but I can't help it, I'm just too mean." With that, she takes another hard swing at my muzzle, and my brain, overwhelmed, decides to call a halt to the proceedings. With that, the world goes dark.

* * *

 

"Damn, Electra, you look like shit."

"Jet, shut up! Can't you see that she almost died?"

"Yeah, I can, but she's my sister, I can't just  _leave_ her like this, Luke, and in case you had forgotten, she's  _your_  sister too."

"Okay, so then what are you going to do? She's going to die if we don't get her down soon, so help me untie this rope."

"Okay, okay. There. Now she's down on the ground, is that better?"

"Yes, it is. Can you help me clean up her cuts?"

"But we don't have any water, sister dear."

"That's what tongues are for, Luke," the voice says. After that, I feel something rough and wet press against my wrists, and strangely, it doesn't hurt. Guess I can chalk that one up to the numbness that one gets when they're hanging on to their life by its last fraying threads, eh?

"Electra? Are you still there? Did we lose you? Please, Karma, don't let us have lost her."

"Luke?" I rasp. My voice comes out ragged, my tongue and mouth dry as sandpaper. "Where am I?"

"Why don't you look for yourself, Electra? It's not much, but it's what we got."

"I'll try, Luke," I say, fighting my eyes open despite the pounding behind my eyelids. When I finally manage it and my temples stop pulsing for a second, I take a look around. It's dark down here, just a single shaft of light from the steel door across the room. "Where are we?"

"Where do you think?" Jet asks, giving me a lick on the cheek. "I really don't care about that right now, though, sis, I just care that you're alive. Now, I may not be a doctor, but I've picked up how to reset a bone or two," she says, pointing to my wrists. "The bones are set, but as for anything else? Not a damn chance. I'm just glad you're alive, Electra. You were starting to turn gray. Oh, gods...Electra, what are we going to do?"

"I have no idea. Can you help me stand up?"

"Sis, that's not a good-" Luke starts to say, but I cut him off.

"Luke, as much as I'd usually love to hear what you have to say, I'm not in a good mood right now," I say, gesturing down at myself, and then I notice something that makes my tail wrap around me. "Luke, Jet, where are my clothes?"

"That's beyond me, Electra," Luke says. "You were like that when they brought you down. I tried to come over and help, but they threatened to kill us, even put their rifles right to our foreheads to prove their point, so I don't know, Electra. Half the time I don't even remember my own name, let alone where I am or what kind of mammal I am. I'm losing it," he says, putting his paws to his eyes, and behind them, I can see that the fur is soaked with tears.

"Luke…," I say, putting one bandaged paw on the back of his head, and for the first time since I've woken up, I see his ears start to rise.

"It's...it's okay, Electra," he says, his voice low and tremulous. "I was- I was just so afraid that I'd lost you. Family sticks together. You're my mate and my sister, we stand together." Then he pauses and laughs, a harsh barking rattle that makes me wonder if he's still all in one piece. "Sweet Celestials. I just realized how  _wrong_  that sounded. It came out, oh, just plain filthy."

"That's right, it did, but in all fairness, all of us are kinda dirty…," Jet says, scooping us all together into one big group hug, her tail adding to the hug as well by wrapping around the bases of her legs. "So, does anyone have any plans? I mean, have you seen my ribs? I'm kinda starving down here."

"No, Jet, we haven't." Luke laughs, helping lift the tension of being locked down here in this basement alone a little bit more. "You're too modest for that."

"Now don't you start," I say, butting in. "You wouldn't be laughing so hard right about now if I were to tell you what Bellwether had threatened to do to all of you…"

"Do we even really want to know?" Luke asks? "If I had to guess, it'd be having us killed, like I think they've done to everyone else."

"No, Luke," I say, feeling my emotions starting to shatter inside of me all over again. "That's not even close. She threatened to have you used as the rams' personal playthings, if you can catch my drift, so if you'd stop fucking around there for a second…"

"What?" he asks, then realization sets in. "Don't say she…"

"Yes, she did, and unless you want that to happen to us, dear brother, I'd suggest that we start to put ourselves together a plan."

"What sort of plan?" Jet asks. "Escape? Believe me, we've tried, and it hasn't worked. I think we've been more than a week without food now, hopefully less. I think my stomach's stopped growling because it can't keep going anymore, and I'm pretty sure that  _I_ won't be able to for much longer, either."

"Fine then," I say, sitting as carefully on my haunches as I can. "We need to think of something, or we're all going to die."

"Fair point, so how about we quit yammering about what we  _want_ to do and what we're actually  _going_  to do. I, for starters, think we need to find some gullible guard and get them to give us some scraps, anything."

"Okay, then what?" I ask, claws scraping against the cold cement of the floor in agitation. "I tried everything I could up there, she's too hell-bent on starting up those machines up there to even  _think_  about us, and even if she did care to through a spare thought in our direction, what makes you think that she'll give a damn?"

"Absolutely nothing, but what other options do we have, really? We can try and fail or not try, starve, and fail anyway, so which one sounds better to you, eh? I know which side I'm leaning towards…"

"Good point, Jet, so now what?"

"I'll tell you what," comes a voice from across the room, one that sounds like it hasn't been used in years.

"Who? Who's there?"

Instead of answering, the figure comes closer until I can see what species it is- a rabbit, a buck with blue eyes and white fur that's marked with three black tiger stripes on each cheek.

"You!" Luke says. "Where the hell have you been, you furry bastard?"

"Easy, easy," Jack says, holding his paws up in front of his muzzle. "I'm not going to hurt you, I promise."

"Yeah, well, I don't trust you, Jack," Luke snarls. "And where the hell did you just pop out of?"

"That doesn't matter at this moment, Luke. We need to go, now!" he says urgently, taking ahold of his paw and trying to drag him along him, which fails miserably.

"That's all fine and dandy,  _Jackson_ ," Luke says, lunging forward so that his jaws (with all of their sharp incisors) snap shut just shy of where Jack's face would have been had he not jerked it sharply backwards, "but I'm not going anywhere without everyone else!"

"See, that's the thing, Luke," Jack says, "I can't tell you here, we need to go!"

"Go where?"

"You'll see, just shut up and follow me," he says, leading us over to a grate in the floor that was hidden under a crate just moments ago. Lifting the cover, he steps down into the hole. "Well, are you going to follow me or not?"

"Where does this thing even go?" I ask.

"Shh! Be quiet, and you'll see, he says, disappearing down the hole. I follow after him, twisting around to catch the first rungs of what seems to be a ladder, and make my way down. Seconds later, I'm at the bottom and Luke has followed suit, we're standing at the beginning of a poorly-lit tunnel. "Follow me, and Be. Quiet." After that, he takes a lantern from the floor and lights it at the very lowest level, then begins to walk down the tunnel.

Some time later, feet aching, we reach the end of the shaft, and Jack switches the lamp off and knocks on what I can only assume to be a trap door in the its ceiling. Somemammal on the other side opens it and reaches a paw down to hoist us up one by one.

Once we're all at the top, I can see that the mammal who helped us up is an arctic fox, a vixen with eyes as blue as the Esperance Diamond.

"Hello, everyone. I've been wondering when you were all going to show up. Seems you all need some help, and that's what all of us are here for. My name's Skylar, that's Joey," she says, sweeping a paw towards a mammal whose species I don't recognize. "He's a kangaroo, if you've ever heard of those, and that," she says, pointing at an ocelot in the corner, "is Mike Paizzi. If you've nver heard of us, that means we've done our job correctly, and now it's time for us to do one more job."

"What's that?" I ask, confused.

"Why, taking out the Mayor, of course. Now, we're going to need all the help we can get, so pack up and get ready to roll!"


	29. Chapter 29: Part 39

Great, so what the hell did I just get myself into the middle of? I mean, it’s great, getting the offer to come along to knock of the Mayor, but just who the f*ck are these mammals? I’ve never seen any of theme in my life, and now they’re asking us if we’ll just blindly trust them? Uh,  _ no _ . If I’ve learned anything-  _ anything  _ over my years, it’s that I can’t just go around blindly trusting mammals, because as soon as I start to do that, those people will turn around in the blink of an eye and stab me in the back.

 

Trust anyone? No, especially not Jack Savage. I think that if I were to pick the two mammals that I trust the least, it would be a tie between Mayor Bellwether and the buck in front of me, but as the old expression goes, desperate times call for desperate measures, and these are the most desperate times that I can ever remember in the history of this city, and I think that’s going to mean that I have no option but to go along with the plan that this vixen (whatever her name is) seems to have come up with, but that doesn’t mean that I’m going to like it.

 

Granted, I’d like anything better than having to suffer under Bellwether, even having to suffer the rancid smell that wafts throughout the cavern where we’re standing. Well, as much as I’d like to overthrow the Mayor, my worn body has had just about enough, and my broken wrists are screaming bloody murder, and I make sure that someone knows.

 

“Look,” I say, fighting to keep myself from screaming in both pain and anger, “I don’t know if you’ve realized this, but I’m not going to be much use to anyone until my damn wrists are fixed, and oh, one more thing- I was her damn secretary, okay? I know what she’s like, and believe you me, she’s a witch with a capital ‘B.’ You don’t want to piss her off, lest you end up like this,” I say, clenching my teeth as the pain in my wrists spikes up again. “And would somebody  _ please  _ fix these?”

 

“I’ve got it,” says a somemammal from behind me. I don’t recognize the voice at first, but then it sinks in, and the embarrassment at not recognizing my own mother’s voice hits me like one of Bellwether’s hoof slaps, and for whatever reason, I want to curse myself for being so stupid. Before I can beat myself up for it, though, she sits down beside me, taking one bleeding paw in hers.

 

“You know,” she says, a smile splitting her face, “Karma may think that we’ve forgotten all of what we once knew, but I can tell you a few things, Electra- she didn’t do squat. I remember everything, so does your father, so does everyone. So then let me ask you something, daughter dear.”

 

“What’s that?” I ask, whimpering as she begins to set the bones in my wrist back into alignment.

 

“Can’t you guess?”

 

I suppose I can, but what that implies- that Karma’s been lying to me, and I don’t think that it was just this one time. Here’s another question- why??

 

“Well?” Mom asks, and I realize that I’ve been so lost in my thoughts that I’ve completely forgotten to answer her....

 

“Ummm….,” I mutter. “I suppose that I can, but my wrists still hurt too darn much to let me think straight, you know?”

 

“Yes, dear, I know that, which is why I’m working as hard as I damn well can to set your bones.” She sighs, shaking her head, which causes her ears to wag dejectedly behind her. “I don’t know if you realize quite how lucky you are that they broke cleanly, Electra.”

 

“I can’t say that I  _ feel _ all that lucky, Mom. I-I don’t feel at all lucky. Maybe it’s stress, maybe it’s the situations that I’ve been in- being Bellwether’s servant, and I think that she’d just had enough of me, I don’t know, but I damn well do  _ not _ feel lucky. I don’t know how much you know about what’s happened to me, Mom, but it wasn’t good. I mean, the whole reason I’m in here was because I said no. I tried to get her to listen to me, but instead of that, she just slammed me as hard as she could with the back of her hoof, which sent me to the ground, and there you have it,” I say, directing the tip of my tail like a pointer towards my wrists. “Life isn’t fair, Mom,” I whine, feeling a sharp lance of pain as she sets the bones, but she pauses long enough to give me a break.

 

“Thanks,” I gasp, thanking whichever Celestial might me listening to me up above (if there are any listening, that is) for the respite from the pain, even if I know that it’s not going to last.

 

“You’re more than welcome, Electra, she says, bending over to give me a soft kiss on the cheek. “I know that none of us ‘adults’ have been of much use recently, but you, Electra….Whether you realize it or not, my daughter, you are the strongest mammal I have ever met. You think you’re weak, and yet you keep getting up to give Bellwether another beating, and-”

 

She doesn’t get to finish her sentence, though, as Skye comes back over to where we’re sitting on the cold cement of the floor. “Hey,” she says, raising her paw in greeting.

 

“Hey,” I say back with a nod. “I’d give a paw back, except…,” I say, nodding at my wrists, the pain sidelined for the moment.

 

“Yeah, I understand,” she says, laughing slightly, and I feel a slight bit of heat in my face. Apparently Skye notices this, because her ears flick downwards, and she frowns. “I wasn’t laughing at you, I promise,” she says, holding her right paw up in the two-finger salute of the Junior Ranger Scouts. “The JRS taught me one thing, at least, before they kicked me out. Muzzled me, actually. They held me to the ground and shoved it on, then they started mocking me, asking me why I would ever think that anymammal would trust me. That day just about broke me, but I wasn’t about to let them get the best of me, unlike they did to my brother. The arseholes did the same thing to him, so I found out later. I haven’t seen him in years, though- he was six years older than me, and when he went off to college, he found this sweet rabbit girl and settled down with her. Judy something-or-other, I can’t remember her last name….”

 

At that comment, Mom, Dad (who’d snuck up behind us), and I all share a look, and I can tell that we’re all thinking the same thing:  _ Since when did Dad have a sister? _

 

Apparently Skye notices our looks, because she turns to face the rest of the group with a  _ what are you talking about?  _ look.

 

“Um….,” Dad says, voicing what we’re all thinking. “I never had a sister….”

 

“Oh, brother mine,” Skye laughs. “You have a hell of a lot to learn….Now, come on, we have to get moving, I think I hear someone coming!”

 

“But what about my wrists?” I ask, hoping that they haven’t forgotten about me. If I had to guess from the look on Skye’s face, though, she’d  gotten caught up in all of the  _ excitement _ and forgotten about me. Figures, I suppose. 

 

Fine, then. If they want to leave me to suffer, let them. I’ll lick my own damn wounds, I’m a fox, I know how to fend for myself.

 

I’m prepared to say exactly that, but Skye puts reassuring paw on my shoulder. “I haven’t forgotten, Electra, but I need to ask you to suck it up for just ten more minutes. Only ten more, can you promise me that?”

 

I want to scream at her, to vent all my pent-up anger and frustration, tell her that no, I can’t wait, because I’m already starting to feel dizzy from the continued lances of pain shooting from my wrists, but what options do I have? If I don’t go along, chances are that I’ll be caught and strung from the end of a rope, and I’ve run too far to give up now.

 

“Skye, please,” I whine, “can’t you just wait a minute?”

 

She sighs, and I can see her ears droop. “I’m sorry, Electra, but we have to go, now!”

 

With that, she turns and flees down the access tunnel on the other side of the room, and I tail after her, praying that I don’t trip over my tail as I go.


	30. Part 30: Chapter 40

We’ve been running for nearly twenty minutes, and from the look of things, the gray steel of the walls and the filthy white tile of the floors have no end. I know what  _ does _ have an end though- my ability to keep this up.

 

_ Keep what up, Electra? _ my mind asks.  _ I don’t get it. _

 

Yeah, you don’t get a lot of things, me. Let me see if I can fill you in while I try not to die, eh? Does that sound good to you, because it sure sounds  _ great _ to me!

 

Good, I’m glad it does. Fine, okay, so here I am, running away from an army that’s sure to kill us, I’m now nearly two decades older than I was a week ago, my kits are grown up, and am I forgetting anything?

 

Oh, yeah I am, aren’t I- this is 2021, at least, I think it is, I’ve kinda lost track.

 

So yeah, that’s about where my reality stands, at least for right now. I don’t want to keep running- my legs are sore, my head is throbbing like a bitch, and I feel like I’m going to collapse at any moment.

 

But then again, compared to the alternate, which is Mayor Bellwether catching us and having us hanged for treason or whatever other inane charge she and her cronies can dredge up out of the harbor here.

 

Suddenly, Skye’s voice snaps me out of my daze. “Electra! Earth to Electra! Are you there, Electra?”

 

“What?” I shake my head, willing the daze that I feel lingering in my brain and behind my eyelids to go away. “Do you need something, Skye?”

 

“Yes, actually, Electra,” she says, “I do.”

 

“And what might that be?” I ask. I’ve known this arctic vixen for less than half and hour, if even for that long, and she wants me to do something for her? I don’t quite trust her, but trust doesn’t matter anymore, not in this world.

 

“Here,” she says, pulling something out of one of the pockets on the army vest she’s wearing. “I only have one more of these after this, so you’d better aim well.”

 

As she hands me the item, a small, yet incredibly heavy thing that looks almost like a pineapple, I wonder what it is, and then it clicks. This thing is a grenade, and yet… those things were outlawed in Zootopia decades ago.

 

Then again, this isn’t the same Zootopia that I’m used to, and nor am I the same Electra Stehlen-Wilde that I’m used to. Somehow, through all the shifting that’s gone on, my hesitation to fight back has gone straight out of the window, and I get the sneaking feeling that Karma might have yanked that little bit of my personality straight out of me.

 

“Are you ready to throw that thing, Electra?” Skye asks, panting hard as she skids to a stop.

 

Her actions taking me by surprise, I do, too, and as I do, I realize that I have my paw on the trigger pin, ready to yank it out and use it when those bastards come barrelling straight at us.

 

Of course, it’ll probably take me with them, but at least it’ll be for a good cause, right?

 

Well, whether it is or not, I don’t have much of a chance to think about is, because I can hear the tap-tap-tapping of running feet hooves from our pursuants.

 

“You guys keep going!” I shout, hating how my voice shakes, “I’ll hold them off, okay?”

 

“Okay,” Jack says, looking at me with an expression that’s a mix of quite a lot of things- fear, anger, pity…

 

“But Electra,” he continues, “what about you?”

 

“In this world,” I say, “who knows? Keep going, or we’re all going to die!”

 

I say nothing else, but as I hear the pawsteps of my family and compatriots grow quickly quieter down the halls, I hear the hoofbeats of Bellwether and co. grow quickly closer, and within a minute, I’m surrounded by several angry rams, their horns polished to a bright shine.

 

“Well, well, well,” says the largest, who, if memory serves, if Bellwether’s henchmammal, Doug. “It’s been a while, Miss Stehlen. Much too long, if you’re asking me, dear,” he sneers.

 

“Actually,” I say, returning his sneer with an even larger one of my own, “it’s Missus Stehlen-Wilde, now. I’m mated, you see.” As I say that, I show them the ring on my paw.

 

“Well, well,” Doug says, huffing, and I can smell the rank cud on his breath. “So where are your mate and kits? Gone off to hide, I suppose, or dead, maybe? Like you’re going to be soon, you know.”

 

“No, they’re not dead,” I say, fighting to keep my voice as level as possible and the fear clear from it, “they’re just not here right now.”

 

“Well, that’s too bad,” Doug says, taking another step forward towards me. “At least they won’t be here to see you die, after we trample you to a pulp. Or maybe we could shoot you with Night Howler and then let you out onto the streets; let the sweepers take care of you. I’m sure that you’d understand, Miss Stehlen,” he continues, making sure to stress my maiden name.

 

“Of course, I would, Mister Ramses,” I say, hoping that he doesn’t notice the grenade that I’m hiding behind my back.

 

“Glad to hear it, Electra,” he says, “but wouldn’t it be  _ so _ much much easier to just give in to us? You’d certainly save a lot of lives, my dear.”

 

“I’m not your dear,” I growl, pulling the grenade out from behind my back, “and besides, I’m a vixen, not a deer.”

 

With that, I pull the handle against the body of the grenade, then run for it as quickly as I can.

 

Unfortunately for me, that’s not very fast, and I’m less than a hundred feet away when the grenade goes off, sending a blast of fire and shrapnel down the tunnel, along with an enormous ricochet of sound.

 

I cover my ears, only to realize that- oh, scat. I can’t hear anything.

 

_ Oh, no, not now, no no nononono…… _

 

But as I run, I keep checking, and I find my suspicions confirmed- I am now deaf, completely deaf in both ears.

 

Even more unfortunately for me, I’m so caught up in my thoughts that I’m not paying attention when the tunnel’s floor turns into a set of stairs, and I tumble down them, smacking my head as I fall down them, and the world goes dark.

\--

 

When I open my eyes again, I find myself surrounded by those same sheep, and considering the fact that I’m now chained in the back of a dark prison van, I think that it’s pretty safe for me to say that I’m flocking screwed.


	31. Chapter 31: Part 51

_If I could hear anything right now,_ I think, _I wonder what I would be able to pick up. From the looks on the drivers’ faces, though, I don’t quite know if I’d want to hear it. All I know right now is that I’m not alone in the back of this van, thank the Celestials. I’d say thank Karma, but since the vixen just keeps on yanking my tail, well, if you’re asking me, she can go flock herself._

 

_As I was saying, though, I’m not the only one that’s bound and gagged in the back here, although it strikes me as somewhat suspicious (and rather fear-inducing) that it’s just my family in here- my mate and kits. They’re all bound, too, but they’re not gagged. I wonder why, but I imagine that it’s just another one of Mayor Bellwether’s insidious jokes at my expense, as if she knows that I’ll have lost my hearing from her damn blasts; that she wants to let everyone try to talk to me and fail and have my life fall apart around me._

 

_Then again, who am I kidding? My life’s never exactly been together in the first place, and with the way time’s become all flocked up, I can’t help but let myself wonder what part she may have played in their deaths._

 

_I snap myself out of my thoughts, shaking my head to make sure that my mind is clear, and when I look up from my toes, which are red with my blood, and as I look around and see everyone else in the semi-darkness of this van, which is lit only by the hazy streams that filter in through the bullet holes in the side, I can see that I’m the best off of all of us. There are several holes in Mom’s ears, Dad’s cradling his arm in his lap, and I think it’s broken, from the white that I can see sticking out of the middle of it. Strangely enough, my own arm feels fine, and when I look at it, it doesn’t look broken._

 

_I put my nose to the spot where the break was, still covered in a bandage whose blood stains have dried and turned a rusty reddish-brown, and take a deep sniff in. My nose still seems to be working- I smell awful, like sewage and grime, hot sweat, stuff like that, but no blood, no rot; it also feels fine. I swear it was broken not a day ago, not even a morning ago, but it seems fine, almost like I’ve been granted one last favor by a certain metaphysical being that doesn’t much care for me._

 

_That seems odd, that she would do me that favor, but hell, I won’t knock it. If it means that I get out of this alive (or at least not dead, then I’m certain that it’ll be due to that help.)_

 

 _Looking back around, my arm seemingly okay, I see that along with Mom’s ears and Dad’s arm, Luke looks like he’s just fur and bones, but why should that surprise me? It shouldn’t, that’s what. What does surprise me is that he’s still breathing, especially considering that his tan fur has lost all its sheen, and the fight that I’m so used to seeing in his eyes, that bright glint that tells me ‘_ it’s all okay, Electra’ _is gone, replaced by a hollow brittleness. Noticing me looking at him worriedly, he smiles, and I can see that half of his teeth are gone, and all of the ones that are left are cracked and smeared with red._

 

 _He starts to speak, and in reply, I point to my ears, then mouth_ ‘I can’t hear you’ _and hope he understands. Thankfully, he seems to and stops talking, then pulls something out of the back pocket of his pants and hands it to me._

 

 _I unfold it, and inside, there are only a few words, but they’re enough to make me want to cower like a kit. No, scratch that, they make me_ need _to cower and hide: the message that my mate has left for me goes as follows:_

 

**_We’re the only ones left, Electra. They got everyone else- Grandma, Grandpa, little Mom and Dad, Jack, Skye. When you tripped, everyone kept running, too afraid to stop. Then when they realized that you weren’t with us, they stopped, tried to go back._ **

 

**_I’ll just cut it short- lead does its job incredibly well. Why we’re still alive, I don’t know. We’ve been going for about six hours. I have no idea where we are, but I’m too afraid to guess, if you can appreciate that._ **

 

**_We’re all going to be okay, Electra, and I love you, mate of mine. No matter what happens, I promise, I’ll protect you._ **

 

 _At the end of the note, he’s signed one last note:_ **_Electra, no matter what happens, I love you and the kits._ **

 

**_PS- Can you hear? That blast was damn nasty._ **

 

_As soon as I’m done reading the note, I shake my head, and Luke, face a mask of sorrow, smiles and tries to fight back his tears._

 

_Pulling a pencil out of the oily tuft of fur atop his head, he flips the paper over and starts to write a note on the other side._

 

**_You’re lucky then, Electra, because there’s no way that we’re getting out of this alive._ **

 

_I look at him, head tilted in confusion, and thankfully, he’s able to read into it._

 

 **_Electra,_ ** he writes, his fingers smearing the pencil across the page as he does, **_we’re going to the central arena- the one that’s below Precinct One. I think they’re going to, well-_ **

 

 _He gulps, dragging a finger, claw extended, across his throat, then grabs the pencil again._ **_You get what I mean, right?_ **

 

_I nod, and extend my paw for him to take. As I do, everyone else does as well, and I feel my spirits rise again, if only for a short while, as the van jolts to a stop, and I feel a rock drop into my stomach. We’ve arrived, as far as I can tell, and well, I don’t want to know what happens next, but then again, I’m not the one in charge here._

 

_The van’s back doors open, and judging from how everyone else puts their paws over their ears, I can only guess that they slam._

 

_A split second later, one of the guards, a large and rather burly ram, jumps into the back of the van and throws us out of the back, quite literally. Before I have time to react, the pavement crash-lands into my arms, and I don’t feel anything. I suppose that’s because I’m close to dead, but whatever._

 

 _As we’re led along outside, I take the opportunity to see what zystopian 2021 looks like, and I have to say that I’m not impressed. It’s all gray, even the sky, and with all of the factories belching smoke, I can’t say that I’m surprised. It also smells_ **awful** _, worse than any other scent that I’ve ever had the displeasure to breathe in before- somewhat like burnt flesh._

 

_Then my brain realizes why, and before I can stop myself, I lose my lunch, in the rather figurative sense, of course, because I haven’t eaten in what feels like weeks but has probably only been a week, plus maybe a day or two. The guards don’t seem to care, though, and I’m hauled back up to my paws._

 

_Seeing no choice but to keep going, I fight my nausea back down, and thankfully, I win this battle, if not the war._

 

_I can see that we’re approaching out destination- Precinct One. No, scratch that, we’re there. The guards hold the doors open for us, and the ram that threw me out of the back of the van signals to the stairs at the back, near where I would imagine Chief Bogo’s office would have once been. Now, instead of that, there’s a gaping hole in the wall, lit by tiny little construction lamps. As we head nearer, I can see that there’s a small sign above it with the words ‘Arena Below’ painted on it in white._

 

_I pause for a second to make sure that I know where we’re going, and the guard points at it._

 

_Gulping, I make my way towards the hole, and inside, I see a set of rickety wooden stairs, all descending down to a brightly lit space below. I make my way down, using my sore arms to steady myself against the brick walls, and everyone else follows behind me, as cautiously as me._

 

_Once we’re at the bottom, I can see that the brightly lit space that I saw a glimpse of earlier is an enormous arena, and it clicks somewhere in the back of my mind that this is the arena that my mate was talking about earlier._

 

_All along the edges of the oval, there are rows of seats, and they’re packed with mammals- all of them prey, I notice, save for some collared predators in a cell in the back, and I realize what’s going to happen._

 

_Well, it worked before, it’ll work again. Kudos to you, Mayor, Doug’s done his job well._

 

_As I walk in, the mammal that’s standing in the center of the ring comes over and gathers us all into a line for the assembled crowd to see._

 

_After forcing us to stand stock still for what feels like an eternity, the emcee returns to his stand, and begins to speak._

 

_Even though I can’t hear a thing, there are, however, enormous television screens that line every inch of the walls down here are broadcasting the goings-on, and thank goodness (even though there is none whatsoever left in this world), they’re subtitled, so I can see that the emcee is telling the audience that we are the criminals that have been the bane of this city for the last several years, and one more line that gets the crowd to their feet in applause (but of course, that’s in support of the emcee and Bellwether’s regime)- we’re the reason that prey reign supreme- us predators, we’re the mammals that were proven to have the ‘biological component of savagery still in our blood. Of course, that’s not true, I know it’s not, but I’m going to die to prove it, I can feel it- I’m going to be a demo, and gods, I’m going to have to go after my family, even my own kits._

 

_Gods, no, no, no!_

 

_What can I do though?_

 

_Nothing, that’s what, and I try to keep that thought in my head as Mayor Bellwether herself comes up on stage, and gives a short pronouncement of her own:_

 

 _‘These predators have been the scourge of our city for years,’ she says,_ _according to the captions on the screens_ _,_ _and this whips the crowd into an even larger frenzy, even though they’ve already heard what they’re being told._

 

_At the end of the speech, the Mayor pulls a large case out of the podium at which she’s standing, and hands it to the gray rabbit that’s standing next to her, who just so happens to have violet eyes- oh gods. It’s my mother- this timeline’s version of her- Lieutenant Judith Hopps._

 

“Here you are, Lieutenant Hopps,” she says, “the honor is yours,” she says, handing this rabbit, who, save for the cruel glint in her eyes, a glint that clearly says, ‘I hate all predators, especially foxes,’ could pass for a carbon copy.

 

“Ah, Mayor, I’m glad you’re offering,” she says, smiling cruelly. As she does, she opens the case, and from inside, she removes a pellet gun and tube of what looks like blueberries, although I know that they’re not, and that the Mayor is too clever to fall for that trick twice.

 

The lieutenant points her pistol at me, aiming with one paw and loading the tube into the gun with the other.

 

“So long, _vermin_ , so long,” she sneers, and I feel just the softest set of _twick_ s of the pellets against my fur. I know it’s hopeless to fight the anger that's rising, but I want the audience to see the regret that’s in my eyes before I go.

 

Waves of red lapping at the edge of my vision, I know that my hold on sanity is slipping, but when I hear Mayor Bellwether scream, I let go, and the red anger overtakes me.

  
  



	32. Chapter LXIII

Something doesn’t feel right as I wake up, brain still hazy from being shot with a good ol’ dose of Night Howler, and it’s not until I manage to shake away the remaining flecks of red from my vision that I manage to figure it out, and when I do, I can’t quite seem to understand it. The crowd, which had been cheering what feels like just seconds ago, is now deathly silent.

 

For a minute, I wonder why, and then the salt and copper on my tongue start to process through to my brain, and well, I think I’m flocked royally, to say the least. I know that I’ll go down for murder- I bet I’ll meet my end at the end of a rope, that would be my luck, now wouldn’t it?

 

Yeah, I think it would be, considering that the mammal whose blood I’m tasting just so happens to be the Mayor.

 

Oddly enough, though, the crowd is silent, and when I open my eyes, they’re all staring at me in shock, and, if I’m reading everyone’s expressions right, a bit of awe, too, and I can’t help but appreciate it, even if it is only for a second. Then the reality of what I’ve done sinks in, and I wonder how much damage I’ve done.

 

A quick look around the arena tells me that all the rams are dead. I don’t know whether I should be laughing right now, or whether I should be crying over what I’ve done. I don’t know, I don’t know, I don’t know!

 

What I  _ do _ know is that I’m responsible for the deaths of what tastes like Bellwether’s entire government, but what about my family?

 

Before I can answer that, though, I have to-

 

_ Oh, shit. _

 

Lieutenant Hopps and her cohort of rams are here, and well, it doesn’t look like they’re willing to give in easily. Thankfully for me, my wrists seem to be better, and maybe I’m just imagining things, but my ears seem to be working. I don’t know if it was the Night Howler that did it, or maybe Karma’s done decided to throw me a bit of luck, but I won’t argue with it.

 

Before I can keep on thinking, the Lieutenant’s voice snaps me out of my thoughts, and I see her staring at me, a Buckmaster rifle levelled straight at my head.

 

“I’d suggest stopping there,  _ pelt, _ and giving in before this urge of mine to take a little of the top gets any stronger than it already is, yeah, that would be a wise idea, I think. So what’s it going to be? Either you give up and I take care of you quietly, or you can fight me, lose, and face a jury and die at the end of a rope. How’s that sound?”

 

“It sounds awful,” Luke shouts, having jumped out of his seat, and I can see him sprinting out across the floor towards me, only to stop when the LT fires a warning shot his way.

 

“You come any closer,” she warns, “and the next one goes through your head, and I don’t think that you’d quite like the feeling of that.”

 

“Believe me,” Luke says, “I think you’re going to like the feeling of pain a lot less.”

 

“Wha-?” the LT tries to ask, but before she can, Luke whacks her over the back of the head with a pistol that he must’ve had hidden in his pants, and she goes down, out cold.

 

“Would you like to do the honors, Electra?” he asks, then shakes his head and starts signing at me.

 

“Stop, Luke,” I say, taking a knee and planting it in the LT’s back. “Whatever was going on with my ears, it’s not any more. I can hear you just fine.”

 

“That’s good,” he says, “but you still haven’t answered my question.”

 

“Don’t worry,” says a voice from above, “I’ll take care of it.”

 

When I look up to see who it is, I recoil, and a wash of fear comes over me.

 

_ Of course,  _ I think.  _ Two levels down, like in all those old video games, so that means Final Boss… _

 

“What are you?” I ask, the wolf that’s slowly walking towards me smiling sadistically, eyes glowing bright like embers.

 

“Oh, you don’t know?” he asks. “Funny, I thought that we’d met met before, but if we haven’t, well, then… I don’t think you need to know my name, only that I’m here to make sure you aren’t,” the creature says, smiling cruelly and taking several more steps forward until its breath billows in freezing clouds around me.

 

Thankfully, it seems that the ever-ready-to-fight Lieutenant Hopps seems to shrink in fear from this monster, whatever the flock it is. Based on the swirling smoke that’s floating in wisps around it, and add to that the eyes, which look like they could sear my skin, I think that it’s a fair bet to say that this thing isn’t a mammal, and I wouldn’t say a Celestial, but then what is it?

 

_ You really don’t know?  _ comes the voice of the monster from inside my head.

 

_ Get out of my head!  _ I scream internally, but the creature, whatever it is, just laughs coldly, frost on its breath this time.

 

“Ah, young mammals are awfully naive, aren’t they? Oh, wait, I know that answer already. Yes, yes they are.”

 

“No, I would say you are,” Luke screams, and before the creature can react, it has a sword sticking through its chest.

 

“You dare try to defy me?” it roars, pulling the sword out of its chest. “Then prepare to face the full wrath of a Fate!”

 

“Come and get it, foxy!” Luke shouts, a maniacal grin plastered on his muzzle. “I’ve been waiting the longest time for this!”

 

**AN: I really need to be done with this story. Expect just a few more chapters, including an epilogue. I hope you’ve enjoyed being on this ride with me. Don’t worry, the story isn’t over yet, but this part of it needs to be.**

 

**Yours,**

 

**Wrong Password**


	33. Chapter XLIV

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Almost the end.

Thirty Seconds Later

My head hurts. I don’t know why, I can’t remember. All I remember is Luke asking me to marry him and me saying yes.

No, that isn’t right, I think. Where am I?

Luckily for me, I don’t have to think about that for much longer, as my brain, taking notice of all of the mess around me, the arena, the enormous glowing wolf-

The enormous glowing wolf? Fox? Whatever it is?

Flock…

Yeah, that’s where I am. On the ground after Atropos blasted the scat out of us. Right. Lucky for me, it’s distracted, which lets me gather my wits about me (whatever of those might be left, that is) and gather everyone left together.

“Okay, everyone,” I whisper, trying to hide my words. “What do we do? I mean, this guy’s a Fate, so there’s no way to beat him, right?”

“Not alive, anyway,” Jet says, emerald eyes glinting nervously. “Mom, I’m scared.”

“I am too, sweetheart,” I say, fighting the fear that I can feel welling up in my chest. “I am too, but we have to get out of here somehow.”

“There is a way, I think,” she says, “but you’re not going to like it.”

“What is it?” I ask, already dreading her answer.

“Atropos is the Fate of Time. The only way we escape here is by giving stolen time back, if I had to guess.”

“What if you’re wrong?” I hiss. “What if you’re wrong, and how would you know anyways?”

“I don’t know, I really don’t, I just do, Mom, you’re going to have to believe me.”

“I’ll try,” I say, taking the deepest breath that I can to try and steady my nerves. “So how would we do that?”

“Die, I guess,” Jet says, ears drooping. “All of us are living embodiments of stolen time. You are. Dad is. We have to give it back.”

“Well, if we’re going to go out, we’d better do it in style, right?” I ask, trying to steady my nerves once more.

“Right,” Jet says, “so you know what that means, right?”

“I do,” I say, hoping she can’t see the fear in my eye but knowing that that’s hopeless. “Where are our weapons?”

“Here,” she says, handing me another sword. It’s so tiny that it’s almost pathetic, but it’ll have to work, right?”

“It’s our only hope,” I say, smiling grimly as the crowd cheers. Must be Luke’s losing. We’d better hurry if we want to have any hope at all.

“All set?” I ask, once everyone has a weapon.

“All set,” everyone echoes, and we charge.

Needless to say, it doesn’t go well- apparently, Fates can breath fire. Three down. Just me and Luke.

Poison, too. Just me now, and Atropos is finally wearing down, but I won’t be able to beat him, because half of that poison landed on me, and I can feel it burning me, searing through my skin and fur and sanity.

Exhausted, I drop, and the world begins to go dark around me.

No, I think, trying to fight, no no no no….

But of course, when do we mortals ever get our way?

Never, I think as the world goes dark for one last time. Never.  
\--

A loud beep, then a sharp shock, for whatever reason, around my dead neck. But if I’m dead, why do I still have a body?

Great question, Electra, a voice echoes from inside my head. Open your eyes.

I do as I’m told, and I see a floating version of the rest of my family, all of them like hallucinations above the blood-stained sand of the area floor as the crowd cheers.

“Am I dead?” I ask, and then shake my head. “Never mind, that’s not even a question, now, is it, Karma?”

“No, you’re right, Electra,” Karma says, eyes flashing golden red as she comes over to me, and I flinch.

“Stay away from me, Karma, just stay away. I don’t know why the hell you kept flocking with me, but I’m sick of it, okay? I’m done. Just leave me dead, and let me suffer. I see that’s what you’ve decided for me anyways, what with giving me this collar back.”

“That collar is no punishment, Electra,” she says, whipping her paw and conjuring up a table in the infinite white cosmos of wherever the flock we are.

“Really,” I ask, and then I hear another beep from the damn thing as it shocks me once again.

“Fucking hell!” I sputter. “What the hell is wrong with you?”

“Quite a lot, actually,” Karma says, smiling mischievously. “Haven’t you noticed how out of balance everything is?”

“Yeah, I have, but that’s your doing, not mine, so what the hell am I here for?”

“I need someone to take charge, you know,” Karma says, sticking out a paw. “I may have helped make the mess, but it’s beyond my reach now.”

“And what the hell do I have to do with anything? Why do you want me?”

“Because you proved me wrong,” she says, conjuring up two chairs at the table.

“Come, Electra,” she says, gesturing to one of the chairs with a wave of a paw. “Sit with me.”

“And what if I don’t want to?” I ask, taking no chances. I don’t trust her, I never will.

“That’s fine,” she says, “but it’s your choice. Either you sit here with me and I can send you back, or you can say dead. Your choice.”

“And what if I do choose to stay dead?” I ask, fighting my temper. “I don’t want to go back there.”

“And I can’t blame you,” Karma says, sighing. “I really can’t. I’ve been a bit of a bitch, haven’t I?”

“You sure as flocking hell have been,” I say. “So what do you want? Keep in mind that I don’t trust you one flocking bit…”

“I can’t blame you for that, either,” she says, gesturing to the contract in front of her. “This,” she says, “is a contract. It’s actually a collection letter for your souls, and I don’t intend to cash it in. Instead, you’ve proven your bravery to me, and no, I’m not trying to trick anyone, I swear on my life.”

“That’s an awfully serious promise,” I say, whistling. “So get to the point already, would you?”

“Fine,” Karma says, passing me the contract. “Basically, there are a few choices left. I don’t know which one you’ll want.”

“Is there a ‘reset button’ option for all of this? Send me back to 2019? Erase this timeline?” I ask.

“No can do, Electra. This timeline’s already overwritten all the rest of them, it’s what’s left. Here are your two options: either stay dead, or go back and serve.”

“Serve what?”

“Your city, your country, what else? Zootopia needs a new Mayor.”

“I accept,” I say, feeling a lightness in my soul for the first time in forever. “But I want a few favors, first.”

“What are those?”

“Get rid of the collars, revive my family, and make me sixteen again.”

“The first one, no, the second two, yes,” she says, snapping her finger, and then holding up a mirror from out of nowhere. “How’s this?”

“Save for the flocking collar, I’m better, but what about the other two?”

“The collar stays. It’s off now, though, and here’s a key. Use it wisely. The third? Partially.”

“What do you mean, partially?”

“I can only bring the adults back. You understand, right?”

“I do,” I say. “I do.”

“Then it’s settled. Welcome to Zootopia, Mayor Stehlen-Wilde, you have quite the mess to clean up.” With that, she snaps her fingers again, and the world vanishes.

Beeping again. No shock. What the?

“Electra, are you okay?” Luke asks, putting a paw on my shoulder. “You passed out there for a while, I brought you here…”

“And you died,” I say, wrapping him in a hug and promising in whispers that I’ll never let him go again.”

“What, no I didn’t,” he sputters. “I couldn’t have, I watched you defeat Atropos.”

“But-” I begin to try and protest and explain, and then think better of it. “Where are we?”

“Home,” he says, gesturing to the rooms of what I can only guess is the Mayor’s mansion. “Congrats, Electra,” he says, “we did it. We’ve won!”

“This was too easy,” I mutter, and he nods. “I know. Where’s the trap?”

“I’m sure we’ll see eventually, now, let’s get that collar off of you.”

“No, I want to leave it on,” I say, and Luke jerks back in bewilderment. “What?”

“You heard me, Luke, I said that I’m leaving it on. It’s not powered any more, and besides, I have more important things to worry about now.”

“You mean like the horde of reporters waiting to talk to you about defeating Bellwether?”

“Yeah, like that,” I say, trying to contain my surprise. “Like that. Now, are you going to bring me to see them all or not?”

“Let’s go,” he says, and we walk downstairs and out the front to meet the mob.

**Author's Note:**

> Cross-posting from FF.net. This version will be updated behind FanFiction.  
> This is my first fanfiction. Yes, I realize that not everyone is going to like what I've put here, but I'd ask that everyone please keep their comments civil. Yes, I can deal with hate comments, but since they're just going to be deleted anyways, why waste valuable time doing that?
> 
> Thank you,
> 
> Wrong Password


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